Within the mansion of my memory

There is a sumptuous chapel, where at times

I kneel in deep devotion at the shrines

Of all the blessed women I have loved.

I burn for them the incense of my thoughts;

Before their sacred images I lay

The flowers of my purest sentiments,

And on their altars piously I light

The pallid candles of my vain regrets.

I oft hold retrospective rendezvous

Within the chapel of the loves of yore.