Frolicsome little Nymph

Frolicsome little Nymph,

Nymphette I idolize,

my sweetheart in whose eyes

I see my best and my worst,

my darling, my sweet,

my graceful one, my Cytherea:

to calm me you must kiss me

a thousand times a day.

You owe me thirty of them in the morning,

Then after dinner fifty,

And then twenty after supper.

What? Are you trying to cheat me?!

Advance me one quarter, my fair one,

My turtledove;

Advance me every quarter's

Remuneration all together!

Wait! Where are you going, mistress?

The desire which presses on me so

Cannot stop like that

If it is not completely happy

with its payment.

Come back, come back, sweetie,

My honey, my violet,

Apple of my eye, my heart, my love:

O my cruel one, who always

Find some charming trick

Which with its sweet deception

Bit by bit overcomes my strength,

Just as you see atop a mountain

The white snow suddenly rush down,

Or as the fresh rose

Loses the [redness of its colour,

When struck by the sun's rays.]

Where are you going, my little angel

My diamond, my little pearl?

Come back, my sweetheart

To my breast, my lap,

And with a hundred kisses calm

The burning fire in my heart.

Give me them lips against lips,

One wet, one dry,

One babbling, and one

Which is still longer

Than those of loving doves

Fluttering couple by couple.

Aha, my sweet warrior,

Draw back your mouth a little:

That last kiss you gave

Has so overwhelmed

My life with a thousand pleasures

That it has practically torn it from me,

And has made me half-see

The enemy sailor

And the plains where Catullus

And the banks where Tibullus

Wandered pace by pace,

And still go now

Again, with their pallid lips

Giving their lovers gentle kisses.