De su cuna u oficio aquél se ufana,
Aquél de su fortuna o corpulencia,
Aquél de su vestuario extravagante,
Aquél de sus balcones o caballos.
A cada humor placeres corresponden
En que se regodea más que en otros,
Mas no son estos bienes mi medida
Pues cada bien con lo mejor comparo.
Y tu amor es mejor que el abolengo,
Más valioso que ropas o dineros
Y más grato que halcones o corceles:
Poseyéndote a ti lo tengo todo.
Más si esa riqueza me quitaras
Yo sería más mísero que nadie.

Some glory in their birth, some in their skill,
Some in their wealth, some in their body's force,
Some in their garments though new-fangled ill;
Some in their hawks and hounds, some in their horse;
And every humour hath his adjunct pleasure,
Wherein it finds a joy above the rest:
But these particulars are not my measure,
All these I better in one general best.
Thy love is better than high birth to me,
Richer than wealth, prouder than garments' cost,
Of more delight than hawks and horses be;
And having thee, of all men's pride I boast:
Wretched in this alone, that thou mayst take
All this away, and me most wretched make.