To serve love
Every ploughman is paid a wage,
and the lawyer who loses the case just won.
I, to serve love, am dispossessed
of what I have, for I don't need it.
I've made my desire lord of my mind,
seeing my mind served love badly:
I've made it vile and left God aside,
and for sixteen years I've waited for my reward.
Love, love, little is your power
to make another man love as much as I do.
Go, go away and prove your arms
against the one who doesn't want to be yours.
Autor(es): Ausiàs March, Raimon