|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 girlâ€™s lover
over whom she lingers â€“
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 mindâ€™s sad care in such a fashion â€“
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.