Though Fields, and Rivers, and the Places, Poem by Pierre De Ronsard

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

Though fields, and rivers, and the places,
The hills, the woods, that I have left behind,
Hold me far from my sweet warrior,
Fatal star from which my best flows,

Some Demon by the leave of Heaven,
Who presided over my first ardor,
Still guides with a customary wing
Her beautiful image to the dwelling of my eyes.

Every night, impatient with haste,
In my arms I embrace and touch again
Her vain portrait, in a hundred forms deceiving.

But when it sees that content I slumber,
Mocking my arms it flees, and wakes me,
Alone in my bed, full of shame and fear.

Pierre de Ronsard

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