Onde tolse Amor l'oro, et di qual vena,
per far due trecce bionde? e 'n quali spine
colse le rose, e 'n qual piaggia le brine
tenere et fresche, et die' lor polso et lena?
onde le perle, in ch'ei frange et affrena
dolci parole, honeste et pellegrine?
onde tante bellezze, et sí divine,
di quella fronte, piú che 'l ciel serena?
Da quali angeli mosse, et di qual spera,
quel celeste cantar che mi disface
sí che m'avanza omai da disfar poco?
Di qual sol nacque l'alma luce altera
di que' belli occhi ond'io ò guerra et pace,
che mi cuocono il cor in ghiaccio e 'n fuoco?
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Where, and from what vein, did Love derive
the gold for her blonde hair? From what thorn
did he pluck the rose, from what fields the fresh
and tender frost, and give them force and power?
From where, those pearls to part and restrain
her sweet words in their chaste wandering?
And so much heavenly beauty on her brow,
more so than in the calmest skies?
From what angels, and with what hopes,
came that celestial singing that disarmed me,
so that I've never been anything but disarmed?
From what sun was that high kindly light born
of lovely eyes, from which came war and peace,
that seared my heart with ice and fire?
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