They who live without Love are dead. / But the worst of all deaths is this -- / That the loving soul be cowardly toward Love; / For perfect Love is never cowardly, / But claims its rights, which it lacks.

For this is love's truth; she joins two in one being, makes sweet sour, strangers neighbors, and the lowly noble.

although I have no fish, / I do not want any frog; / Or any elderberries either, / Instead of a bunch of grapes: / Although I have no love, / I do not want anything else, / Whether Love is gracious to me or hostile.

Take care, you who wish / to deal with names / for love. Behind their sweetness / and wrath, nothing endures. / Nothing but wounds and kisses.

I wish to devote all my time / To noble thoughts about great Love.

He who lives in despair / takes and gives in vain.

What use is it for me to force my nature? / For my nature shall always remain / What it is and conquer what belongs to it, / However men may narrow its path.