O seasons, O castles,
What soul is blameless?
O seasons, O castles,
I pursued the magic lore
Of Happiness, which no one escapes.
Oh long live to it, everytime
That the Gallic cock crows.
But! I shall never want again,
It has taken charge of my life.
That Charm! it took hold of soul and body,
And dissipated every effort.
What to understand about my words?
It makes it flee and vanish into air!
O seasons, O castles!
[And, if misfortune takes me away,
Its disgrace with me will be certain.
Its contempt will take me, alas!
To the quickest death!
– O seasons, O castles!
What soul is blameless?]**
