Signor mio caro, ogni pensier mi tira
devoto a veder voi, cui sempre veggio:
la mia fortuna (or che mi pò far peggio?)
mi tene a freno, et mi travolge et gira.
Poi quel dolce desio ch'Amor mi spira
menami a morte, ch'i' non me n'aveggio;
et mentre i miei duo lumi indarno cheggio,
dovunque io son, dí et notte si sospira.
Carità di signore, amor di donna
son le catene ove con molti affanni
legato son, perch'io stesso mi strinsi.
Un lauro verde, una gentil colomna,
quindeci l'una, et l'altro diciotto anni
portato ò in seno, et già mai non mi scinsi.
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My dear lord, every thought in me,
as always, with devotion, turns to seeing you,
but fate holds me (what more could she do to me?)
reined in, and twists me round and round.
Then sweet desire that Love breathes into me
leads me to death, so that I barely feel it:
and between my two guiding lights I cry out,
wherever I am, day and night, sighing so.
Fondness for my lord, love of my lady,
are the two chains I'm bound with,
in much distress, so that I torment myself.
I've carried in my breast, a green laurel,
a noble column, one for fifteen, one for eighteen
years, and may not sever myself from them.
Note:
Laura is the green laurel, Cardinal Giovanni
Colonna the noble column.
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