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O my beautiful rebel,
Alas, how cruel you are to me!
Or when with a sweet smile,
Thief of my spirits,
Or when with a word
Daintily soft,
Or when with a glance of eyes
Proudly gracious,
Or when with a little gesture
All divine, all celestial,
In amorous ardor
You plunge all my heart.
O my beautiful rebel,
Alas, how cruel you are to me!
When the burning ardor,
That scorches my heart,
Makes me ask of you
For its great burning
A refreshment
Of just one kiss.
O my beautiful rebel
Alas, how cruel you are to me!
When with a little kiss
You will not appease me,
But by your fine tricks
Always you refuse it to me,
Instead of relief
Increasing my torment.
May I one day, hard one,
Avenge myself for your injury:
My little master Cupid
May overpower you one day,
And for me languorous
May he make you amorous,
As he has made me languorous
For you amorous.
Then by my vengeance
You will know
What harm a kiss does
When a lover refuses it.
And if I give it to you,
My fierce darling,
When desire more strongly
Comes to seize you,
Then, after my vengeance,
You will know
What a good thing it is, a kiss
When a lover does not refuse it.
Jean-Antoine de Baïf
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-o-my-beautiful-rebel-jean-antoine-de-baif/