Oh, my Blamer, By God
Oh, my blamer, by God
Oh, my blamer, by God, let my affection grow
If I repent to God,
to whom would I leave my love
Oh you who are aware of the nightingales of passion
This love is my excuse
It melts lovers in its infatuation
I am drunk on it and it is completely sweet to me
One cannot forget love
And he who blames suffers.
If I repent to God,
to whom would I leave my love
You grow in meaning
While I grow in passion
One seeks and wishes for such tenderness,
to perish in your love.
And he who blames suffers
He suffers in torture,
always emaciated and pale
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Tell me what can I do,
Oh you star at the beginning of the month
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