Waiting in Vain
Yesterday I made a tryst with a girl, fine choice;
I went on Monday [to meet her].
When I saw her of the colour of foam, painful violence,
4 on Sunday, she had promised
to come to a tryst under trees' woven [branches],
but the merry girl did not come.
Joyous one, I cast many looks,
8 the bright one is gentle and comely,
in summer haste,
up towards her region,
quiet mind, above the dune,
12 to where she was. The girl deceived [me].
She is a maiden, keen desire,
and shame on me -Amen!-
if I give in to her deceit,
16 she denied me cheaply, no easy means.
From daybreak, bright-haired girl,
until mid-morning under the fair grove,
from mid-morning, poet's punishment,
20 until the middle of the day,
from midday until the afternoon,
which seems like an eternity,
from afternoon, the talk [was] sincere enough,
24 until night, unmistakable anguish,
waiting for her is a long watch for me,
lovely bright lady, on the brink of the hillside.
If I were in the woods,
28 in the dear Pope's name, senseless condition,
as long as the man with the load of sticks,
state of imprisonment, exclamation of grief,
pure and tender is her face,
32 -woe is me!- I wouldn't see anyone.