Sol 5.6

  1. I wonder: when, through abandonment, you ravaged my

    heart, did you know what it concealed, and thus content yourself?

  2. You vowed to me that you would not betray, yet blamed me for

    seeking your fidelity to the covenants—though you did not fulfill them.

  3. If my gaze should roam to anyone but you, may it know no sleep;

    or if my heart should turn from your love, may it never be pardoned.

  4. I am patient—indeed, grateful—in love, whether

    you break the covenant of union or do not break it.

  5. Yet I love your fidelity—and your mouth—for I

    desired the honor of attaining it and sipping from it.

  6. And I pour out my passion in love by seeking access,

    by entreaty, importunity, and gentle coaxing.

  7. By God, I did not guard myself amid my ardor, once

    your love summoned the fire within me, nor did I hold back.

  8. Indeed, I draw away, turning from my reproacher,

    if he returns to me, or from whoever rebukes me over you.

  9. I am enthralled by your flowing locks and chainlike tresses,

    your rosy cheek, your curls, and your slender form.

  10. If you visited me, O my desire and my death,

    and pitied the extremity of my burning and yearning,

  11. you would see an eye to which weeping is no stranger,

    and behold a body wasting sickness has left unrecognizable.

  12. You have never been absent from the lover’s heart—by the sanctity of what

    you hold dear; by nothing other than this would I swear,

  13. save your love. And you, I maintain, in this

    know best that I have never drawn back from it.

  14. Love’s neighbor has wronged my heart, and never

    in ardent longing have I seen a sincere one among the just.

Sol 5.6