Oh Death, to what a condition you convert me now ! To enrich heaven you have impoverished me only, Robbing me of the eyes with which I was sustained, Which now sustain the stars and angels above. Among tears and sighs, among uncanny thoughts, Among despair confused and sad, I mock the world, myself, Love, Having no other pleasure than singing your praises. Alas, you are not dead, oh it is I who am. That man might as well be dead who lives only on the worries And ills which make eternal war on me. The sharing-out has been badly done: you possess the heavens And, wretched, I for my part have only the earth, Sighs in my mouth and tears in my eyes. Blanchemain retains the same text, but alters just one word in line 3, “Me ravissant les yeux…“. It doesn’t really need a different translation but perhaps ‘Stealing from me the eyes…‘ gives a sense of the slight shade of meaning?!