I'm so frightfully unhappy,
I feel, oh stars, I am dying!:
I want to live, and I'm sighing
A beauteous woman to see.

Like a helmet, her headdress
A beautiful face protects:
Her black hair the light reflects
Like the sword of Damascus.

What of that one?… Well, find all
The world's gall, and then enmesh,
Cover it in so much flesh,
And you have a soul that's all gall!

Well, this one?… What a disgrace!
The creature red slippers wears,
Paints her lips red if she cares,
And puts on a barnished face.

The sorrowful soul then screamed:
Damn you, woman, twice damn you!'
I know not which of the two
The more accursed should be deemed!