Quand je vis son visage Un petit vent se lève,
Si rare et si parfait, Favorisant mes yeux,
Sa gorge et son corsage, Que sa chemise lève
Ses deux monts blancs de lait, Rien de si précieux
Ce sous-lever alors qu'elle respire Je ne vis oncque sa cuisse polie,
Soudain je la désire Grossette et arrondie,
Et deviens son sujet. Dont je suis amoureux.

(Chante et Ballad 1475)
.......

A beautiful nymph was sleeping
in a green field covered with flowers.
Her sweet slumber seemed to be
more beautiful than nature itself.

When I saw her rare and perfect face,
her naked bosom,
her two milk-white hills rising as she breathed,
I suddenly desired her and became her slave.
A breeze arose helping my vision,
so that when her gown was blown up,
I never saw anything so delightful as her smooth thighs,
polished and round, with which I am in love.