by Garcilaso de la Vega
Daphne's arms were already growing,
and in long branches he showed himself;
in green leaves I saw that they became
the hair that the gold darkened.
They were covered with rough bark
the tender limbs, which were still bubbling:
the white feet on the ground knelt down,
and they turned into crooked roots.
He who was the cause of such damage,
by dint of crying, I grew
this tree that watered with tears.
Oh miserable state! Oh bad size!
That with crying it grows every day
the cause and the reason why he cried!
Last updated November 29, 2022