Marot Ma mignonne, Je vous donne Le bon jour; Le séjour C’est prison. Guérison Recouvrez, Puis ouvrez Votre porte Et qu’on sorte Vitement, Car Clément Le vous mande. Va, friande De ta bouche, Qui se couche En danger Pour manger Confitures; Si tu dures Trop malade, Couleur fade Tu prendras, Et perdras L’embonpoint. Dieu te doint Santé bonne, Ma mignonne. | Hofstadter My sweet I bid you A good day; The stay Is prison. Health Recover, Then open Your door, And go out Quickly, For Clément Tells you to. Go, indulger Of thy mouth, Lying abed In danger, Off to eat Fruit preserves; If thou stay’st Too sick, Pale shade Thou wilt acquire, And wilt lose Thy plump form. God grant thee Good health, My sweet. | Monroe My delight, I invite you to smile; For awhile you¹ve been jailed. Find your failed health again. Open then the cruel door to explore right away, for I say you’ve no choice. Go, rejoice, since your tastes lay in waste while you’re ill; Have your fill, cakes devour! Ev'ry hour sickness wins, color thins from your face, to displace roundedness. May God bless you tonight, My delight. |
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