Take this rose, lovely as you,
Who serves as a rose to the loveliest roses,
Who serves as a flower to the newest flowers,
Who serves as a Muse to the Muses and to me.
Take this rose, and with it receive
Within your breast my heart, which has no wings:
It lives wounded by a hundred cruel wounds,
Stubborn in keeping its faith too well.
The rose and I differ in one thing:
One Sun sees the rose be born and die,
A thousand Suns have seen my love be born
Which does not pass, and never rests.
Would to God that my love, once bloomed,
Like a flower, had lasted me only a day.
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-take-this-rose-lovely-as-you-pierre-de-ronsard/
