When I see Dawn descending from the skies,
with golden hair and roses on her brow,
then Love assails me; I turn pale; with sighs
I say, ‘There’s Laura in the heavens, now.
Old man Tithonus, luck has smiled on you.
You claim your treasured girl at close of day.
My laurel’s loved and lost. What can I do?
I long to see her; death’s the only way.
Your partings aren’t so hard; at least each night
your youthful wife consents to your embrace.
You don’t disgust her, though your locks are white.
Sad nights, dark days are mine, of thoughts bereft;
my lady took them to a higher place.
I have her name — the only thing she left.’
