For I am faint with love

In a valley of this restless mind

I sought in mountain and in mead.

Trusting a true love for to find.

Upon a hill then took I heed:

A voice I heard, and near I yede,

In great dolor complaining tho:

See, dear soul, how my sides bleed:

         Quia amore langueo

I am true love that false was never:

My sister, man’s soul, I loved her thus.

Because we would in no wise disserver

I left my Kingdom glorious.

I purveyed her a palace full precious:

She fled, I followed, I loved her so

That I suffered this pain piteous,

          Quia amore langueo.

 

– Anonymous

For a different translation see

lib.rochester