Love Kills Me, and Yet I Will Not Tell

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

Love kills me, and yet I will not tell
The pleasant pain that dying brings to me:
So great is my fear that someone might remedy
The ill through which I gently sigh.

It is quite true that my languor desires
That with time I might be healed:
But I will not entreat my lady
For my health: so much does my martyrdom please me.

Be silent, languor, I sense the day approaching,
When my mistress, after so long an absence,
Seeing the care that gnaws at my thought,

All one night, playfully having
Me in her arms, prodigal, will go paying
The interest of my advance-paid suffering.

Pierre de Ronsard

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

Text published on Poésies 123: https://www.poesies123.com/en/poem-love-kills-me-and-yet-i-will-not-tell-pierre-de-ronsard/