Luís de Camões
Love is a fire that burns unseen;
A wound that aches yet is unfelt;
A discontented contentment;
It is pain that ravages without hurting;
It is a longing that wants nothing more than to long
It is a lonely walk amongst people
It is to never be contented in contentment
It is working to win when in loss
It is being enslaved of your own free will
It is victory in the midst of defeat
It is staying loyal to who kills us
But how can it be in its favor,
If so self-contradictory is this same Love,
To bring sympathy into human hearts?