For the lords of terrestrial treasures
Afflict us and rack us with pains,
And we fly to the palace of pleasures
Forgetting their chains.
And we smile pressing hands in the dances,
And we feign what we give not nor take,
And indulge in the gleaming of glances
Though the heart is as cold as a snake.
As lovers, though loving not truly,
We are filled with the fire of the eyes