translation.
High up, amongst the mountains, an unfortunate shepherd
was seated at the foot of a beech, drowned in tears, musing on
the changes of his love.
"Oh light, oh fickle heart!" said the unhappy youth; "for
the tenderness and the affection which I have borne towards you,
is this wretchedness a fitting reward?
"Since you have frequented the society of persons of condition,
your flight has been so high that my humble cottage is too low
for you by at least a stage.
"Your flocks no longer deign to mix with mine; your haughty
rams, since that period, never approach mine but a battle
ensues.
"I am without wealth or dignity; I am but a simple shepherd
but there is none that can surpass me in affection.
"And methinks, according to my simple ideas, that I prefer my
berret, old and worn as it is, to the finest ornamented hat that
could be given me.
"The riches of the world only bring uneasiness with them, and
the finest lord with all his possessions cannot compare to the
shepherd who lives content.
"Adieu, tigress-heart! Shepherdess without affection; change,
change, if you will, your adorers, never will you find any so true
as I have been."
I here give a metrical version of the same song: