Accept my thanks, kind patrons!
Men could speak them aloud to you --
With ardour that my heart feels.

But I, a mere woman, cannot do so.
Yet believe me, never in my life
Shall I forget your gracious favour.

Where I to stay, my aim would be
To merit it, but patience!


From the beginning, constant roving
Has been the lot of the Muses and the artists;
With me it is, as will all the others,

I see myself led by fate
From the bosom of my native land.
Yet believe me, in whatever country

I may be, for all time
My heart will always remain with you.