And You, in Love, My Soul Torture

How great my patience! From abandonment, Oh beloved,
From my soul's abidance of the burdens it suffers.

You are love... and all-encompassing,
And you, in love, my soul torture.

Oh my love, in this world, without you, who do I have?
How onerous ever life's trials and torments.

The essence of your love all women's beauty exceeds,
Oh queen among the deer.

Have mercy on a lover trimmed to illness by yearning,
And whose wounds confound doctors.

My plea is yours, a plea irreconcilable,
From me, a wish, just once you may grant.

Simply beholding you a few days,
Lays waste the grief which on my soul weighs.

As if from your eyes the shafts of death are lanced,
And from your army's horses threaten me, their knights.

If, oh angel, these affairs content me,
Beware then days of water tainted.

The cheek, in midnight's black aflame,
Casts light upon a house long deserted.

The eye a Lanner's eye, for hunting reserved,
And I am in the bloody talons snared.

No! Alas times past desolate,
And exhausted them in vain the pillars of my feet.