When Aurora comes down out of the sky,
with a blushing complexion and a golden mane,
Love hits me, so that I drain of color, sigh,
and say, “There—dawn and Laura now are the same.
“You’re lucky, Tithonus, to know the time
of recovering your dear treasure well,
but what am I supposed to do now that I’m
obliged to die to see my sweet laurel?
“Your separations cause no difficulty:
at least she isn’t put off by white hair
and shows up after her excursions nightly.
“But the one who took my thoughts into the air
with her darkened my days while evenings became
sad, and left me nothing except her name.”