How I wish I never say this word...
The odds and obstacles of this world
Need not be guided against.
To love is devilish; as it means temptation,
And to talk about feelings is to be misled by acquaintances,
To love is to fall to whims and caprices
Of the devil himself,
And to follow one’s heart means yielding to
Wicked advice from friends,
Though I grieve to fight this battle,
I know fate is at work.
Like a snail, I will carry my destiny along.
Adieu! My love, and if ever we meet again
In some fresh cheek,
The power of fancy,
Then shall you know the wounds invisible
That love’s keen arrows make.
Goodbye, and until the dark clouds are removed,
We will meet to relate
The history of our childhood fantasies with regret.