a valentine’s day mixtape

The gauntlet has been thrown, it seems.

for W D P R

“I don’t want him to sigh
except away from me,
I no longer want him
to confide his sufferings in me.

Because I suffer for him,
he is proud;
will he beseech me
if I flee from him?

She may have a more serene
brow than mine,
but even Love’s breast
does not harbor such beautiful constancy.

Never will he have such sweet kisses
from that mouth,
nor softer – be still,
be still, that he knows all too well.

Thus among scornful weeping
she scattered her laments to the sky;
thus in lovers’ hearts
Love mixes flame and ice.


Come again! sweet love doth now invite
Thy graces that refrain
To do me due delight,
To see, to hear, to touch, to kiss, to die,
With thee again in sweetest sympathy.

Come again! that I may cease to mourn
Through thy unkind disdain;
For now left and forlorn
I sit, I sigh, I weep, I faint, I die
In deadly pain and endless misery.


Dale si le das,
Mozuela de Carasa;
Dale si le das,
que me llaman en casa.

Una mozuela de Logroño
Mostrado me habia su co[ño]…
…po de lana negro que hilaba.

Otra mozuela de buen rejo
Mostrado me ha su pende[jo]…
Con qu’ella se pendaba.

Otra mozuela, Teresica,
Mostrado me ha su cri[ca]…
…atura que llevaba bien criada.


The world does the hula-hula when my boy walks down the street
Everyone thinks he’s Petula so big and yet so petite
Butterflies turn into people when my boy walks down the street
Maybe he should be illegal he just makes life too complete…
Amazing he’s a whole new form of life
Blue eyes blazing and he’s going to be my wife


O moon, stand still for a moment,
Tell me, ah, tell me, where is my lover!
Tell him. please, silvery moon in the sky,
That I am hugging him firmly,
That he should for at least a while
Remember his dreams!
Light up his far away place,
Tell him, ah, tell him who is here waiting!


Allow me
to touch you:
to melt, to dissolve in you.

I’m waiting for you again.
How slowly comes
the day after tomorrow.


That’s another
Sunday over.
That means the next will come.


Some say love is a burning thing
That it makes a fiery ring
Oh but I know love as a fading thing
Just as fickle as a feather in a stream
See, honey, I saw love,
You see it came to me
It puts its face up to my face so I could see
Yeah then I saw love disfigure me
Into something I am not recognizing


The Pilgrim
Nothing obliges you to love him, Countess,
But you cannot prevent him from loving you from a distance.
In his songs he also says
That you are his distant star,
And that he languishes for you without hope of return.

And what else does he say?

The Pilgrim
My memory is not good.
There is, however, A song that goes somewhat like this:
“Never shall I delight in love If I delight not in this distant love,
For a nobler nor a better love I know not of
Wheresoever, neither near, nor far.
Its worth so great is, and so true,
That over there, in the kingdom of the Saracens,
For her sake, I would a captive be.”

Oh God, and it is I that have inspired him.

The Pilgrim (continuing in the same vein)
“I hold faith with Our Lord
That by his grace I shall see my distant love.
Yet through this one piece of fortune
My ills are doubled, since she is so far away.
Ah, that I were there, a pilgrim,
So that my staff and my robe
Could fall beneath the gaze of her beautiful eyes.

Do you recall any more?

The Pilgrim
“He who calls me greedy speaks aright
For wishing for a distant love,
For no joy would please me as much
As to delight in this distant love,
But what I wish for is denied me.
Such was my godfather’s decree,
That I should love and be not loved..”
And he says many other things I no longer remember..

If you see this man one day, tell him.. tell him..

The Pilgrim
What should I tell him?

No, nothing, tell him nothing.