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Why am I not the lawn,
Which welcomes me on a beautiful night,
My shepherdess to sleep,
Which love guards well?
Why am I not the breeze,
caressing her stomach,
the meadow under her feet
and in her mouth the breath?
Why am I not the wave
that is in the She welcomes her,
Why am I not the bright
chain that she hangs around herself?
Why am I not the mirror
that is beautiful for her ¶a face shows,
this seal leans towards her eyes
her splendor?
Why am I not the lute
over which her finger buzzes?
Tender sounds me the familiar
voice that confuses the heart.
just one pluck of this beautiful one
takes me away immediately
and all my strings sound,
with hers in harmony.
Why am I not the spindle,
I could always stand with her,
and in a sweet dizziness,
would be her hand turn me around?
Why am I not the distaff
that she moistens with her mouth,
I would never be withered and dry,
I would be happy and healthy?
Why can't I take her heart in the flight
of a dream?
Why can't I pass from deception
into the truth?
But there is ambition on earth
br/>my chest swelled too proudly.
Because I would like to be everything,
everything that pleases her.
Because I would like to be everything,
>anything she likes.