Petrarch Laura Francesco Petrarch and Laura For a woman he would never know
For a woman he could never have
He should change the world forever
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Petrarch:The Canzoniere

Translated by: A.S.Kline
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Information on the sonnet is available here.
Looking for an analysis of a specific poem from the Canzoniere?
Read I go thinking an analysis of poem 264 by Holly Barbaccia.


ITALIAN ENGLISH
Non à tanti animali il mar fra l'onde,
né lassú sopra 'l cerchio de la luna
vide mai tante stelle alcuna notte,
né tanti augelli albergan per li boschi,
né tant'erbe ebbe mai il campo né piaggia,
quant'à 'l io mio cor pensier' ciascuna sera.

Di dí in dí spero ormai l'ultima sera
che scevri in me dal vivo terren l'onde
et mi lasci dormire in qualche piaggia,
ché tanti affanni uom mai sotto la luna
non sofferse quant'io: sannolsi i boschi,
che sol vo ricercando giorno et notte.

Io non ebbi già mai tranquilla notte,
ma sospirando andai matino et sera,
poi ch'Amor femmi un cittadin de' boschi.
Ben fia, prima ch'i' posi, il mar senz'onde,
et la sua luce avrà 'l sol da la luna,
e i fior d'april morranno in ogni piaggia.

Consumando mi vo di piaggia in piaggia
el dí pensoso, poi piango la notte;
né stato ò mai, se non quanto la luna.
Ratto come imbrunir veggio la sera,
sospir' del petto, et de li occhi escono onde
da bagnar l'erbe, et da crollare i boschi.

Le città son nemiche, amici i boschi,
a'miei pensier', che per quest'alta piaggia
sfogando vo col mormorar de l'onde,
per lo dolce silentio de la notte:
tal ch'io aspetto tutto 'l dí la sera,
che 'l sol si parta et dia luogo a la luna.

Deh or foss'io col vago de la luna
adormentato in qua' che verdi boschi,
et questa ch'anzi vespro a me fa sera,
con essa et con Amor in quella piaggia
sola venisse a starsi ivi una notte;
e 'l dí si stesse e 'l sol sempre ne l'onde.

Sovra dure onde, al lume de la luna
canzon nata di notte in mezzo i boschi,
ricca di piaggia vedrai deman da sera.

The sea's not so many creatures in its waves,
nor there, beyond the circuit of the moon,
were so many stars ever seen at night,
nor do so many birds live in the woods,
nor so many grasses on the field or bank,
as I have thoughts in my heart each evening.

From day to day I wish my final evening
would sever my living earth from the waves,
and let me fall asleep on some green bank,
for no man has ever suffered under the moon,
such troubles as I have: and the woods
know, that I go searching day and night.

I have never had one tranquil night,
but go along sighing morning and evening,
since Love made me a citizen of the woods.
Before I rest, the sea will be free of waves,
and the sun illuminated by the moon,
and flowers will die in April on every bank.

Consumed with grief I go from bank to bank
thoughtful all day, then weep through the night:
and may have no more rest than has the moon.
As soon as I see the darkness of evening,
my breast sighs, and from my eyes come waves
to drench the grass, and bow down the woods.

Cities are hostile to my thoughts, the woods
are friendly: thoughts that along this high bank
I pour out to the murmuring of the waves,
through the sweet silence of the night:
so that I wait through the day for evening,
when the sun departs and makes way for the moon.

Ah if, like Endymion, lover of the moon,
I was asleep somewhere in the green woods,
and she, who before vespers brings me evening,
came with the moon and Love to that bank,
to remain alone there through a single night:
and daylight and sun stayed beneath the waves!

Over harsh waves, by the light of the moon,
song, born at night among the deepest woods,
you'll see the greenest bank tomorrow evening.


© Copyright 1999-2006
Peter Sadlon
Updated Sept 10th 2007

A Merentha Entertainment Project


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