¿Por qué me prometiste un día claro,
Dejando que viajara sin abrigo,
Y pusiste en mi senda nubarrones
Que velan tu esplendor con brumas turbias?
No basta que ahora asomes entre nubes
Y me seques la lluvia de la cara,
Pues bálsamo que cura las heridas
Mas no la humillación no es buen remedio.
De poco sirven ahora tus rubores,
Pues compensan en poco mis agravios:
La pena del que ofende no da alivio
A quien sufre la carga de la ofensa.
Mas las lágrimas que tu amor derrama
Son perlas que la pérdida compensan.

Why didst thou promise such a beauteous day,
And make me travel forth without my cloak,
To let base clouds o'ertake me in my way,
Hiding thy bravery in their rotten smoke?
'Tis not enough that through the cloud thou break,
To dry the rain on my storm-beaten face,
For no man well of such a salve can speak,
That heals the wound, and cures not the disgrace:
Nor can thy shame give physic to my grief;
Though thou repent, yet I have still the loss:
The offender's sorrow lends but weak relief
To him that bears the strong offence's cross.
Ah! but those tears are pearl which thy love sheds,
And they are rich and ransom all ill deeds.