| La donna che 'l mio cor nel viso porta, là dove sol fra bei pensier' d'amore
 sedea, m'apparve; et io per farle honore
 mossi con fronte reverente et smorta.
 
 Tosto che del mio stato fussi accorta,
 a me si volse in sí novo colore
 ch'avrebbe a Giove nel maggior furore
 tolto l'arme di mano, et l'ira morta.
 
 I' mi riscossi; et ella oltra, parlando,
 passò, che la parola i' non soffersi,
 né 'l dolce sfavillar degli occhi suoi.
 
 Or mi ritrovo pien di sí diversi
 piaceri, in quel saluto ripensando,
 che duol non sento, né sentí' ma' poi.
 
 
 | The lady whose looks are always in my mind, appeared to me where I was sitting thinking
 deeply of love: and I, to do her honour,
 approached her with a pale and reverent face.
 
 As soon as she was aware of my state,
 she turned towards me with such fresh colour
 as would have disarmed Jove
 in all his fury, and quenched his anger.
 
 I gathered myself together: and she walked on,
 speaking, so that I could not endure her words,
 nor the sweet sparks from her eyes.
 
 Now I find myself full of such varied
 pleasures, thinking of that greeting,
 I feel no grief, nor have done since then.
 
 
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