On the first day of May, my lady, Within my heart I felt your lovely eyes, Brown, sweet, courteous, laughing, delicious, Which with a glance started a fire. The memory of their lovely light burns me And in thinking of it I’ve fallen in love with them, Those sweet murderers of my heart! I feel your worth down in my soul; Those eyes which hold the key to my thoughts, My masters, who can with a single look Overwhelm my deeply-affected reason. So strongly your beauty wounds me in the heart That I must enjoy the sight of you For longer, or else see you no more. Blanchemain offers a variation of the final tercet – or rather, the first half of the tercet: Ha ! que je suis de vostre amour époingt, Las ! je devois jouïr de vostre veüe Plus longuement ou bien ne vous voir point. Oh how I am stabbed by love for you Alas, I must enjoy the sight of you For longer, or else see you no more.