The sweet hills where I left myself, when I departed from the place I can never depart from, are before me as I go, and still behind me is that sweet burden Love has entrusted to me.Within myself I am often amazed at myself, for I still go yet have not moved from the sweet yoke that I have shaken off in vain many times, but the farther I go from it the closer I come.As a hart struck by an arrow, with the poison steel within its side, flees and feels more pain the faster it runs,So I, with that arrow in my left side which destroys me and at the same time delights me, am tormented by sorrow and wary myself with fleeing.

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