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17.12.2021

How my heart hurts.

How my heart hurts
for my lover´s not here,
and now what will I do?
O ribbon for my hair,
you will never be used.
 
He´s still in Castile,
either dead – God help me! –
or detained by the court.
O bonnets he gave me,
you will never be worn.
 
Though I may seem content,
I´m confused and upset,
so now what, dear sisters?
I´ll gaze at myself
no more, O mirror.
 
These beautiful presents
are from him, dear friends,
I freely confess it.
O fine buckled belts,
you won´t touch my waist.