| SONNET 11 | SONNET 11 |
| Louise Labé | tr. Anon |
Ô doux regards, ô yeux pleins de beauté Petits jardins pleins de fleurs amoureuses Où sont d'Amour les flèches dangereuses, Tant à vous voir mon oeil s'est arrêté! Ô coeur félon, ô rude cruauté, Tant tu me tiens de façons rigoureuses, Tant j'ai coulé de larmes langoureuses, Santant l'ardeur de mon coeur tourmenté! Doncques, mes yeux, tant de plaisir avez, Tant de bons tours par ces yeux recevez; Mais toi, mon coeur, plus les vois s'y complaire, Plus tu languis, plus en as de souci. Or devinez si je suis aise aussi, Sentant mon oeil être à mon coeur contraire. | O gentle gaze, O eyes where beauty grows, Like little gardens full of amorous flowers, Where Love lets fly sharp arrows from his bow, Where my eyes too have gazed for many an hour. O felon heart, O savage cruelty, Binding me in so many iron chains, So many are my lovesick tears and sighs, My heart so tortured by its burning pain. Thus you, my eyes, so much delight have had From gazing in his eyes, so much enjoyment; But you, my heart, the more you see them glad The more you languish and the worse your torment. Then guess if there is any joy for me, Knowing my heart and eyes thus disagree. |
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