To Fifi, MOOO LA LA

As one sees on the branch in the month of may the pink

As one sees on the branch in the month of may the pink,
In its beautiful youth, its premiere flower,
To make the sky jealous of its sharp color,
When the Paddle of its tears to the poinct of the day sprinkles it;

Grace in its sheet, and the love rests,
Embasmant gardens and trees of odor;
But batue or of pluye, or excessive heat,
Languid she dies, fueille with fueille déclose.

Thus in your premiere and young innovation,
When the Earth and the Sky honoured your beauty,
Tuee has you Parks, and ashes you re-fixing.

For funerals reçoy my tears and my tears,
This mud full with laict, this basket full with flowers,
So that sharp and dead tone body is only pink.

Pierre of RONSARD (1524-1585)