Clement Marot A Rondeau Poem by Tom Billsborough

On kissing her, she said: "Darling without blame
This single kiss which our two mouths embalm
Is on account of bliss that's much desired."
These were the very words she gently proferred,
Meaning to appease my growing flame.

But speaking thus, she did my heart inflame
Her breath more fragrant than a balsam balm
Fanned the fire for which Love has been prepared,
On kissing her.



Yes, no-one knew how much my soul became
So fevered on the mouth of my sweet dame
Whose amorous body died, or so it seemed,
And if our joined lips much longer had been sealed
She would have sucked my soul out, I proclaim,
On kissing her.