Her Fair-Skinned Form Is More Than I Deserve

Her fair-skinned form is more than I deserve; because her skin is light, and mine is dark, like Tristan and Yseult's love which King Mark forbade, we're banned from passion's sweet preserve. Though bred as opposites opposed, we serve our needs: and through her milk and my coarse bark, like Heloise and Abelard, a spark burns (though Fulbert and Church show their reserve)! Alas! Were I as fair, as white, as bright, as her: were darkened complexion, and chin, not so eclipsed as night when near her light! Though mores, like the world, moved by lies' spin, discourage us, the coveted birthright to merge won't be denied by tribal men.