Death, I cry out at your harshness, <br />That stole my girl away from me, <br />Yet you're not satisfied I see <br />Until I languish in distress. <br /> <br />Since then I've lost all liveliness: <br />What harm alive, to you, was she? <br />Death, I cry out at your harshness, <br />That stole my girl away from me. <br /> <br />Two we were, with one heart blessed: <br />If heart's dead, yes, then I foresee, <br />I'll die, or I must lifeless be, <br />Like those statues made of lead.<br /><br />François Villon<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/le-testament-rondeau/
