If I Die Between Your Arms, Madame, Poem by Pierre De Ronsard

Poem by Pierre De Ronsard Collection First Book of LovesThemes LovePeriod 16th century

If I die between your arms, Madame,
I am content, for I do not wish to have
Greater honor, than to see myself
Kissing you, give up my soul upon your breast.

Let him whom Mars horribly inflames
Go to war, and lack the power,
And young in years, take delight in receiving
In his chest a Spanish blade;

But I, more cold, ask for nothing, except
After a hundred years, without glory and without renown,
To die idle in your lap, Cassandre.

For I am wrong, or it is more happiness,
To die thus, than to have all the honor,
To live but little, of an Alexander warrior.

Pierre de Ronsard

Translation generated by Poésies 123 with assistance from the deepseek-chat artificial-intelligence model.

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