Poetry International Poetry International
Poem

Luís Vaz de Camões

My errors, cruel fortune and ardent love . . .

My errors, cruel fortune and ardent love
conspired to bring about my ruin;
the errors and fortune were superfluous,
since love alone would have done as much.

Although it’s over, the dreadful pain
of what I suffered is still so vivid
that I, with bitter rage, have learned
never to try to be happy again.

In life and words I’ve always strayed,
giving Fortune cause to punish
my poorly founded hopes.

In love I’ve known just brief illusions.
Oh! if only my ruthless Genius
would have its fill of wreaking vengeance!

My errors, cruel fortune and ardent love . . .

Erros meus, má fortuna, amor ardente
em minha perdição se conjuraram;
os erros e a fortuna sobejaram,
que para mim bastava o amor somente.

Tudo passei; mas tenho tão presente
a grande dor das cousas que passaram,
que as magoadas iras me ensinaram
a não querer já nunca ser contente.

Errei todo o discurso de meus anos;
dei causa [a] que a Fortuna castigasse
as minhas mal fundadas esperanças.

De amor não vi senão breves enganos.
Oh! quem tanto pudesse que fartasse
este meu duro génio de vinganças!
Close

My errors, cruel fortune and ardent love . . .

My errors, cruel fortune and ardent love
conspired to bring about my ruin;
the errors and fortune were superfluous,
since love alone would have done as much.

Although it’s over, the dreadful pain
of what I suffered is still so vivid
that I, with bitter rage, have learned
never to try to be happy again.

In life and words I’ve always strayed,
giving Fortune cause to punish
my poorly founded hopes.

In love I’ve known just brief illusions.
Oh! if only my ruthless Genius
would have its fill of wreaking vengeance!

My errors, cruel fortune and ardent love . . .

My errors, cruel fortune and ardent love
conspired to bring about my ruin;
the errors and fortune were superfluous,
since love alone would have done as much.

Although it’s over, the dreadful pain
of what I suffered is still so vivid
that I, with bitter rage, have learned
never to try to be happy again.

In life and words I’ve always strayed,
giving Fortune cause to punish
my poorly founded hopes.

In love I’ve known just brief illusions.
Oh! if only my ruthless Genius
would have its fill of wreaking vengeance!
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