O why, my mistress Monica, once right,
do you appear throughout the world in song?
O why, my mistress Monica, so bright,
do you revive me from a state of wrong?
O why must I, who have fled your ire
Must I, who have conquered my emotions,
now endure your face and voice, a lyre
In times of motion, like a lasting potion?
I know, my mistress Monica, once light,
I see why you appear so far and wide,
As when I first declared myself your knight,
Who swore himself to be your guard with pride
One fourth the god I knew and worshiped long,
You are my whitened room, my darkened song
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem