| When you are old, in the evening, candlelight, seat by the fire, reeling and spinning, Direz, singing my verses, you wonder: "Ronsard celebrated me when I was beautiful" At , you'll servant hearing all this news Already under work half asleep, Who does the sound of Ronsard s'aille awoke Blessing praise your name immortal. I'm under the earth, and without phantom bone, myrteux In the shadows I will take my rest: You'll be at home an old crouching Regretting my love and your proud disdain. Live, so my advice, do not wait until tomorrow: Pick today the roses of life. | Quando Sareta Vecchia, the will, went candela seduta presso it fuoco, e dipanando filando, ricanterete the mie poesie, meravigliando: Ronsard I celebrated at the time that I was beautiful. Servant who hear this story then you will not, overcome by fatigue already half dozing, who at the sound of my name does not open your eyes a little, and praise your name so lucky star who once had. I will be in the ground, naked spirit among spirits, take my rest under the shade of the myrtles. you by the fire an old ineurvita, my love and 'the proud disdain your regret, Live, listen, do not wait Diman: seize as of today the roses of life. |
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