English Translation of Tagulaylay

Love, O Love, what is the reason
that thou returnest, season after season?

Hast thou not already bid me adieu,
my aspect abandoned with a somber moue?

Yet I have seen thee on many an occasion,
my heart corrupting with thy contamination.

I have heard thee yet at times resounding,
piercing my breast with thy apt dirk bounding.

So tarry, thou Love, and stay thy operation…
Hearken thou first to my lowly lamentation.

‘Tis enough no more, thy tender music;
it lullabies me not, ’tis no nightly soporific.

‘Tis enough no more, thy poesy and prose;
such are no parables to rouse the comatose.

‘Tis enough no more, though thy rose would as lief;
for its fragrance can to sorrow proffer no relief.

‘Tis enough no more, your amorous brilliance;
’tis nary a response to distress or remonstrance.

Alas, well do I know, aye, but how I know
that thy fickle throbbing does ticklishly go.

For the resonant laughter in thy merry train
is hollow, and empty, and futile, and vain.

Do not betimes thy offering of success
bear in its wake ruin and loneliness?

Time and again thou comest knocking;
and when thou goest, thou goest mocking.

Ah, Love, I pray thee, what is thy motivation?
To bring joy that is soon marred by agitation?

O Love, what is thy purpose, what thy aspiration?
Is it Lunacy? or Folly? or else mad Deterioration?

Read Original: http://www.rabernalesliterature.com/?p=554