Sol 6.1

  1. O lady of counterfeit beauty, meant to harm,

    A physician and a craftsman lent it to you.

  2. You lavish the tormented one's wealth upon them both,

    As payment, until all I had gathered was lost.

  3. Easy now, for you have discovered your secret, and back have turned

    Blunted, those keen-edged swords.

  4. I meet my reproacher concerning you, filled with contentment;

    And how often an intercessor before you was sent back to me angry!

  5. You have grown used to the pains of wounds, mending

    Your body, until nothing in your body flinches.

  6. So the mocking women have not hurt you with their reproaches

    Against you, nor has your enemies' taunting, stinging though it is.

  7. Leave me alone, and deceive another's eye and heart;

    For in you is something deceptive for lovers of appearances.

Sol 6.1