Where are you, Muse, that you’ve forgotten for so long to give me the inspiration to write about the one who gives you all your power? Are you using up your energy on some worthless poem, dimming your power in order to brighten unworthy subjects? Come back, forgetful Muse, and compensate for the wasted time by helping me to write some good verses. Sing to the ear that values your songs and gives you both the skills and the poetic subject. Get up, lazy Muse. Examine my love’s sweet face and see if time has engraved any wrinkles there. If there are any be a satirist, attacking ageing and making everyone despise time’s power to destroy. Give my beloved more fame than time can destroy and so stop his scythe and crooked knife.