When you are very old, and sit in the candle - light at evening spinning by the fire, you will say, as you murmur my verses, a wonder in your eyes, 'Ronsard sang of me in the days when I was fair.
Live now, believe me, wait not till tomorrow; Gather the roses of life today.
Love wants everything without condition, love has no law.
Thousands and thousands of colors paint the bosom of the earth so gaily.
Gather the roses of life today.
My guitar, I sing of thee 'Tis with thee that I decoy And ensnare enchantingly the ladies I enjoy.