Live now, believe me, wait not till tomorrow; Gather the roses of life today.
When you are old, at evening candlelit, Beside the fire bending to your wool, Read out my verse and murmur, "Ronsard writ This praise for me when I was beautiful.
Love wants everything without condition, love has no law.
Gather, gather your youth: Just like this flower, old age Your beauty will wither.
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.