Sir Thomas Wyatt Translations 1

SIR THOMAS WYATT TRANSLATIONS 1 Whoso List to Hunt ("Whoever Longs to Hunt") by Sir Thomas Wyatt loose translation/interpretation/modernization by Michael R. Burch Whoever longs to hunt, I know the deer; but as for me, alas!, I may no more. This vain pursuit has left me so bone-sore I'm one of those who falters, at the rear. Yet friend, how can I draw my anguished mind away from the doe? Thus, as she flees before me, fainting I follow. I must leave off, therefore, since in a net I seek to hold the wind. Whoever seeks her out, I relieve of any doubt, that he, like me, must spend his time in vain. For graven with diamonds, set in letters plain, these words appear, her fair neck ringed about: Touch me not, for Caesar's I am, And wild to hold, though I seem tame. *** My lute and I by Sir Thomas Wyatt, circa early 16th century loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch At most mischief I suffer grief Without relief Since I have none; My lute and I Continually Shall both apply To sigh and moan. Nought may prevail To weep or wail; Pity doth fail In you, alas! Mourning or moan, Complaint, or none, It is all one, As in this case. For cruelty, Most that can be, Hath sovereignty Within your heart; Which maketh bare All my welfare: Nought do you care How sore I smart. No tiger's heart Is so perverse Without desert To wreak his ire; And me? You kill For my goodwill; Lo, how I spill For my desire! There is no love Your heart to move, And I can prove No other way; Therefore I must Restrain my lust, Banish my trust And wealth away. Thus in mischief I suffer grief, Without relief Since I have none, My lute and I Continually Shall both apply To sigh and moan. Keywords/Tags: Wyatt, translation, hunt, deer, doe, pursuit, net, wind, lute, grief, heart, love, desire, poets, poetry, poems, writing, heartbreak