from The Trickster of Seville

Tirso de Molina
1579 – 1648


Ah, would to God, dear country maid,
I had been swallowed by the main
So in my senses to remain
And not to lunacy betrayed
For love of you. The sea could harm me
Drowned between silver waves and blue
That roll forever out of view―
But with fierce fire it could not char me.
You share the quality that flashes
In the great sun, like whom you show,
Though seeming cold and white as snow,
Yet you can burn a man to ashes.

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