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JUAN MELENDEZ VALDES.
As if it were that life could
Produce so little trouble,
That we with toils and strife would
Make each one of them double.
I stand by smiling Bacchus,
In joys us wont to wrap he;
The wise, Dorila, lack us
The knowledge to be happy.
What matters it, if even
In fair as diamond splendour,
The sun is fix'd in heaven?
Me light he's born to render.
The moon is, so me tell they,
With living beings swarmy;
"There may be thousands," well they
Can never come to harm me!
From Danube to the Ganges,
History tells how did he
The Macedonian launch his
Proud banner fierce and giddy!
What's that to us, to entice us,
If only half this valley,
To feed our lambs suffice us,
With all our wants to tally?
