We present this work in honor of the poet’s 500th birthday.

Sweetness, Let’s go see whether the Rose
who this morning had opened
her dress of crimson to the Sun,
this evening has at all lost
the pleats of her crimson dress
and her complexion the same as yours.

Alas! Behold how, in a little space,
Sweetness, she has, on the spot, alas, alas
let all her beauties fall!
O Nature is truly a cruel mother
since such a flower lasts
only from morning to evening.

So, if you will believe me, Sweetness,
while your age is in flower
in its green newness,
gather, gather your youth:
for, the same as this flower, old age
will tarnish your beauty.

Translation by William Calin