Il mio adversario in cui veder solete
gli occhi vostri ch'Amore e 'l ciel honora,
colle non sue bellezze v'innamora
piú che 'n guisa mortal soavi et liete.
Per consiglio di lui, donna, m'avete
scacciato del mio dolce albergo fora:
misero exilio, avegna ch'i' non fôra
d'abitar degno ove voi sola siete.
Ma s'io v'era con saldi chiovi fisso,
non devea specchio farvi per mio danno,
a voi stessa piacendo, aspra et superba.
Certo, se vi rimembra di Narcisso,
questo et quel corso ad un termino vanno,
benché di sí bel fior sia indegna l'erba.
|
Mirror, my enemy, in which you are allowed
to see your eyes that Love and Heaven honour,
enamours you of beauties not its own,
sweet and delightful in more than mortal ways.
Through its promptings, Lady, I have been
driven from my sweet resting-place:
wretched exile, though I could not rightly stay
where you alone can have existence.
But if I had been fixed there with firm rivets,
that mirror would not have made you proud
and harsh, pleasing to yourself, to my harm.
Surely you can remember Narcissus:
that course and this runs to the same end,
though the grass is not worthy of such a flower.
Note:
For Narcissus see Ovid's Metamorphoses,
falling in love with his own reflection he was
changed into the narcissus flower.
|
