Şiir 35
Now to that tender bard, my Comrade fair,
(Cecilius) say I, Paper go, declare,
Verona must we make and bid to New
Comum’s town-walls and Larian Shores adieu;
For I determined certain fancies he
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Accept from mutual friend to him and me.
Wherefore he will, if wise, devour the way,
Though the blonde damsel thousand times essay
Recall his going and with arms a-neck
A-winding would e’er seek his course to check;
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A girl who (if the truth be truly told)
Dies of a hopeless passion uncontroul’d;
For since the doings of the Díndymus-dame,
By himself storied, she hath read, a flame
Wasting her inmost marrow-core hath burned.
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I pardon thee, than Sapphic Muse more learn’d,
Damsel: for truly sung in sweetest lays
Was by Cecilius Magna Mater’s praise.