Ove ch'i' posi gli occhi lassi o giri per quetar la vaghezza che gli spinge, trovo chi bella donna ivi depinge per far sempre mai verdi i miei desiri.
Con leggiadro dolor par ch'ella spiri alta pietà che gentil core stringe: oltra la vista, agli orecchi orna e 'nfinge sue voci vive et suoi sancti sospiri.
Amor e 'l ver fur meco a dir che quelle ch'i' vidi, eran bellezze al mondo sole, mai non vedute piú sotto le stelle.
Né sí pietose et sí dolci parole s'udiron mai, né lagrime sí belle di sí belli occhi uscir vide mai 'l sole.
|
Where ever I turn my weary eyes or rest them, to quiet the longing that excites them, I find that someone depicts that lovely lady so my desire might be always fresh.
She seems to breathe with graceful sadness a noble pity that stirs the gentle heart: beyond sight, hearing is adorned, enchanted by her living voice and sacred sighs.
Love and truth with me declared I saw beauty that was unique on earth, never seen again beneath the stars.
Such sweet and piteous words were never heard before, nor were such lovely tears seen to fall from such lovely eyes beneath the sun.
|