The forward violet thus did I chide:
Sweet thief, whence didst thou steal thy sweet that smells,
If not from my love's breath? The purple pride
Which on thy soft cheek for complexion¹ dwells
In my love's veins² thou hast too grossly dyed.
The lily I condemned³ for thy hand,
And buds of marjoram had stol'n thy hair:
The roses fearfully on thorns did stand,
One blushing shame, another white despair;
A third, nor red nor white, had stol'n of both
And to his robbery had annex'd thy breath;
But, for his theft, in pride of all his growth
A vengeful canker eat him up to death.
  More flowers I noted⁴, yet I none could see
  But sweet or colour it had stol'n from thee.

我对孟浪的紫罗兰这样谴责：
"温柔贼，你哪里偷来这缕温馨，
若不是从我爱的呼息？这紫色
在你的柔颊上抹了一层红晕，
还不是从我爱的血管里染得？"
我申斥百合花盗用了你的手，
茉沃兰的蓓蕾偷取你的柔发；
站在刺上的玫瑰花吓得直抖，
一朵羞得通红，一朵绝望到发白，
另一朵，不红不白，从双方偷来；
还在赃物上添上了你的呼息，
但既犯了盗窃，当它正昂头盛开，
一条怒冲冲的毛虫把它咬死。
　　我还看见许多花，但没有一朵
　　不从你那里偷取芬芳和婀娜。