1191 – 1200: Pining Alone

Stoneless fruit of love they have 1191
Who are beloved by those they love.
The lover-and-beloved’s self-givings 1192
Are like rains to living beings.
The pride of living is for those 1193
Whose love is returned by love so close.
Whose love is void of love in turn 1194
Are luckless with all esteems they earn.
What can our lover do us now 1195
If he does not requite our love?
One sided pains; love in both souls 1196
Poises well like shoulder poles.
This cupid aims at me alone; 1197
Knows he not my pallor and pain?
None is so firm as she who loves 1198
Without kind words from whom she dotes.
The lover accords not my desires 1199
And yet his words sweeten my ears.
You tell your grief to listless he 1200
Bless my heart! rather fill up sea!

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