| Posted on Fri Oct 28, 2011 03:02:40 | |
| | I have tried to give a version in sonnet form, adding the three lines of 2b. The translation is inevitably freer but just maybe gets a flavour of the original.
Sparrow, my girl’s lover over whom she lingers – fondling under cover offering her fingers a sharp bite provoking when my Desire is pleased to make some kind of joking so that her grief be eased.
I think this is her way of handling passion If only I could play with her like you! And lift my mind’s sad care in such a fashion – It would be just as good for me as to that agile girl: they say the golden fruit fell at her feet; her dress soon followed suit.
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