Oh Fortune!

with respect to the aspect of the moon,

with respect to the state of changing,

with respect to its waxing,

and with even further respect even to its waning!

Oh hateful life!

with respect to the hardening of my sharp mind (if I do say so myself),

and with respect to its healing,

all of this is in respect to being by the means of sport, games, or otherwise being toyed with,

with respect to extreme poverty,

and with respect to ultimate power (editor's note: see Star Wars),

with respect to the metaphorical dissolution of frozen water.

Fate — with respect to being vast

and also with respect to being empty,

with respect to being a spinning wheel (editor’s note: see Boethius),

with respect to having bad posture,

with respect to empty health,

with respect to always-being-dissolvable,

with respect to being-wrapped-up,

and with respect to being hidden,

you are always with respect to being attacking

with respect to me.

My back is with respect to being naked

and with respect to a curse that is, respectively, with respect to you.

Health

and courage —

you disrespect me.

Eagerness

and absence

are with respect to angaria (editor’s note: see Lewis & Short).

With respect to this hour

with respect to striking

with respect to a pulse, chord, or some such musical-making thing,

without respect to delay!

Lament Fate with respect to me

because of the being with respect to overthrowing people who are, with respect, strong!

Fortune's wounds I lament 

with little eyes cyring

which from me, her presents

she removes, always war-making.

It is true, what is read

her forehead is hairy but also

generally following in her stead

bald is Occasio.

In Fortune's seat

I once sat elated,

with flowers disparate

of prosperity, coronated;

Still, for whomever, I have flourished

lucky and happy,

now from the height I have down rushed

since robbed is glory.

The Wheel of Fortune rotates

I go down contracted

somewhere else one is upraised

far too exalted

A king sits on the peak—

Let him beware of ruin!

For under the axel we read

Hecuba Queen

I, being-consumed-with-rage-inwardly,

Being-vehement-with-anger-

And-bitterness,

Being-in-a-state-as-if-tweaking,

Having-been-made-from-substance-

Or-the-ashes-of-an-element,

Resembling-a-plastic-bag-

Which-is-floating-in-the-wind,

Imagining-it-fitting-for-a-wise-man-

To-build-his-house-on-stone,

Practically-being-a-fool-who-is-like-a-

River-without-the-ability-

To-deliver-on-the-

Second-half-of-a-

Metaphor-with-proper-

Parallel-structure,

Being-like-a-

Sailorless-ship,

Being-like-a-

Wandering-bird,

Being-without-being-bound,

Being-without-being-locked-up,

Seeking-the-same-as-me,

Joining-to-the-depraved,

Feeling-the-weight-

Of-a-weighty-heart,

Longing-for-a-

[Sweeter-than-honey]-joke,

Obeying-Venus-

In-implicitly-naughty-

And-energetic-

Behavior,

Walking-the-broad-road-

In-the-fashion-of-youth,

Embracing-vice,

Neglecting-virtue,

Desiring-pleasure-

More-than-salvation,

Having-expired-with-respect-to-my-soul,

Care for my flesh.

I am the Abbess of Excess,

and my sisters assist sirs

tithe to our convent of card sharks.

And who seeks out my charity

to supplement his prosperity

but the easiest of all of the marks!

"Alack, alack!

Lady Fortune's turned her back

and without her -- like an ox

I am led to the stocks!"

Love comes ‘round,

holding on forever.

Young men, young women

making it right together.

If a girl and her lover are apart,

she lacks light in her life,

she only holds love in the dark

with a total

eclipse of the heart;

She’s only falling apart.

Here a chick was chillin

in a curt crimson coat;

if anyone swayed her

the coat burst asunder!

Eia!

There a chick was chillin

pretty as a plucked peony;

her shape resplendent,

that expression of hers at its peak!

Eia!

On the balance of a fickle mind

arguments rise and fall

as lascivious desire and puritanical disease.

But I choose because I see,

I submit my neck to the yoke;

I am pliant to the sultry

                 tack and saddle.

Wavering in balanced mind,

they rise and fall in opposite direction:

shameless love and modesty.

But I choose because I see.

I marry to offer my neck.

(I always submit to agreeable offers.)

In my mind's doughful scale 

opposites swell:

lustful and pure love.

But I choose what is in front of me—

I surrender myself to the yoke...

To that sweet servitude.

Sugar-Sweetie-Honeypie!

I'm lost in your sauce completely!

Bless this golden,

rare torchére.

Bless this hidden angel,

youth without equal.

Blessed be you who hung the moon,

blessed be you who hoisted the sun.

Floris and Paris,

sweet Eros!