You’re too weak, unable to go, tenderly bound,
and cruel Love presses your neck beneath his foot?
Stop struggling: let your sails be brought before the wind,
where the tide calls, let your oars travel too,
That thirst’s to be quenched, by which you’re desperately parched:
I allow it: it’s fine now to drink from mid-stream:
but drink even more than your heart demands,
make your throat overflow, full of the water you’ve taken.
Go, and enjoy your girl, any time, nothing’s forbidden:
let her steal away your nights and days.