Happy is the man whose only problem worth
complaining about is love's audacious schemes,
since they alone can never destroy his dreams
of finding some contentment here on earth.
Happy is he, who, far from home, embraces,
sadly, only his fondest memories because,
despite his isolations, he sees and clearly
comprehends the sorrow he faces.
Happy is he who lives in any state where only fraud
and love's deceits and doubt are able to torture his
heart from within.
But tragic is he who lives beneath the weight
of some unforgivable act, living without consciousness
of the damage of his sin.
-Luis de Camoes (trans. Willima Baer)