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.
For a different translation see