Translations from Camoens; and Other Poets, with Original Poetry/Sonnet 58

by Luís de Camões

CAMOENS.

SONNET 58.

Se as penas com que Amor tao mal me trata.

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SHOULD Love, the tyrant of my suffering heart,
Yet long enough protract his votary's days,
To see the lustre from those eyes depart,
The lode-stars now*, that fascinate my gaze;

To see rude Time the living roses blight,
That o'er thy cheek their loveliness unfold,
And all unpitying, change thy tresses bright,
To silvery whiteness, from their native gold;

Oh! then thy heart an equal change will prove,
And mourn the coldness that repelled my love,
When tears and penitence will all be vain;
And I shall see thee weep for days gone by,
And in thy deep regret and fruitless sigh,
Find amplest vengeance for my former pain.

*"Your eyes are lode-stars."
⁠Shakspeare.