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That Love Does Not Admit Rational Reflections

Bunbury

Que el amor no admite cuerdas reflexiones

Señora, Amor es violento,
y cuando nos transfigura
nos enciende el pensamiento
la locura.

No pidas paz a mis brazos
que a los tuyos tienen presos:
son de guerra mis abrazos
y son de incendio mis besos;
y sería vano intento
el tornar mi mente obscura
si me enciende el pensamiento
la locura.

Clara está la mente mía
de llamas de amor, señora,
como la tienda del día
o el palacio de la aurora.
Y el perfume de tu ungüento
te persigue mi ventura,
y me enciende el pensamiento
la locura.

Señora, Amor es violento,
y cuando nos transfigura
nos enciende el pensamiento
la locura.*

Mi gozo tu paladar
rico panal conceptúa,
como en el santo Cantar:
Mel et lac sub lingua tua
La delicia de tu aliento
en tan fino vaso apura,
y me enciende el pensamiento
la locura.

That Love Does Not Admit Rational Reflections

Lady, Love is fierce,
and when it transfigures us,
it ignites our thoughts
with madness.

Don't ask for peace from my arms
that have yours captive:
my embraces are of war
and my kisses are of fire;
and it would be a vain attempt
to turn my dark mind
if my thoughts are ignited
with madness.

My mind is clear
with flames of love, lady,
like the tent of the day
or the palace of the dawn.
And the scent of your ointment
chases my fortune,
and ignites my thoughts
with madness.

Lady, Love is fierce,
and when it transfigures us,
it ignites our thoughts
with madness.

My joy your palate
deems rich honeycomb,
like in the holy Song:
Honey and milk are under your tongue.
The delight of your breath
in such a fine vessel refines,
and ignites my thoughts
with madness.

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