Poet Luís Vaz de Camões, 1572

Love is fire that burns without being seeing;
It is wound that it aches and is not felt;
It is a contentment discontents;
It is pain that renders crazy without aching;

It is not to want more than to want well;
It is solitary walk among people;
It is never to content itself of contented;
It is to take care of that it is gained in if losing;

It is to want to be imprisoned for will;
It is to serve to whom wins, the winner;
It is to have to whom kill us loyalty.

But as to cause can its favour
In the human hearts friendship,
If so contrary itself it is the same Love?

Luís Vaz de Camões