Love is a thing I wish not to seek;
a thing to fickle and determined,
only by a heart’s fickle beat.
Not a wise-man does it meet;
for no wise-man seeks to be summoned.
Love is a think I wish not to seek.
It is not that I am ill nor meek;
it is an illness of sense, made a burden,
only by a heart’s fickle beat.
In youth and old it is said to be sweet;
but I find it jaded and uncertain.
Love is a thing I wish not to seek.
But if by chance love is what I meet;
(a thing so fickle and determined),
and only by a heart’s fickle beat.
I will bare myself upon my feet;
and dare to love the fickle person.
But love is a thing I wish not to seek,
only by a heart’s fickle beat.