Love wants everything without condition, love has no law.
Thousands and thousands of colors paint the bosom of the earth so gaily.
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.
Live now, believe me, wait not till tomorrow; Gather the roses of life today.
Gather, gather your youth: Just like this flower, old age Your beauty will wither.
Gather the roses of life today.