Amor m'à posto come segno a strale,
come al sol neve, come cera al foco,
et come nebbia al vento; et son già roco,
donna, mercé chiamando, et voi non cale.
Da gli occhi vostri uscío 'l colpo mortale,
contra cui non mi val tempo né loco;
da voi sola procede, et parvi un gioco,
il sole e 'l foco e 'l vento ond'io son tale.
I pensier' son saette, e 'l viso un sole,
e 'l desir foco; e 'nseme con quest'arme
mi punge Amor, m'abbaglia et mi distrugge;
et l'angelico canto et le parole,
col dolce spirto ond'io non posso aitarme,
son l'aura inanzi a cui mia vita fugge.
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Love placed me as a target for his arrow,
like snow in sunlight, or wax in the fire,
like a cloud in the wind: and I am hoarse already,
Lady, calling for your mercy: and you indifferent.
The mortal blow issued from your eyes,
against which no time or place helps me:
from you alone proceed, and it seems to you
a game, the sun and wind and fire that make me so.
Your thoughts are arrows, and your face the sun,
and desire is fire: with which joint weapons
Love pierces me, dazzles me and melts me:
and your angelic singing and your speech,
with your sweet spirit from which I've no defence,
are the breeze (l'aura) before which my life flies.
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