Surrounded by my colours
I was painting one day
When my Muse

Came to torment me. With sadness then I left
My happy task
Of celebrating the charms

Of the fair Nice.

My Muse asked me to depict

A more spiritual subject;
But she asked in vain,
For I could not do so.


With sadness then I left
My happy task

Of celebrating the charms
Of the fair Nice.


An inconstant heart
May know beauty,
But it's cruel destiny

Prevents it from singing. With sadness then I left
My happy task
Of celebrating the charms

Of the fair Nice.