It was the day the sun's ray had turned pale
with pity for the suffering of his Maker
when I was caught, and I put up no fight,
my lady, for your lovely eyes had bound me.
It seemed no time to be on guard against
Love's blows; therefore, I went my way
secure and fearless—so, all my misfortunes
began in midst of universal woe.
Love found me all disarmed and found the way
was clear to reach my heart down through the eyes
which have become the halls and doors of tears.
It seems to me it did him little honour
to wound me with his arrow in my state
and to you, armed, not show his bow at all.

 
5

When I summon my sighs to call for you,
with that name Love inscribed upon my heart,
in 'LAUdable' the sound at the beginning
of the sweet accents of that word come forth.
Your 'REgal' state which I encounter next
doubles my strength for the high enterprise;
but 'TAcitly' the end cries, 'for her honour
needs better shoulders for support than yours.'
And so, to 'LAUd' and to 'REvere' the word
itself instructs whenever someone calls you,
O lady worthy of all praise and honour,
unless, perhaps, Apollo be incensed
that 'morTAl' tongue be so presumptuous
to speak of his eternally green boughs.

 
13

When Love within her lovely face appears
now and again among the other ladies,
as much as each is less lovely than she
the more my wish I love within me grows.
I bless the place, the time and hour of the day
that my eyes aimed their sights at such a height,
and say: 'My soul, you must be very grateful
that you were found worthy of such great honour.
From her to you comes loving thought that leads,
as long as you pursue, to highest good,
esteeming little what all men desire;
there comes from her all joyous honesty
that leads you by the straight path up to Heaven—
already I fly high upon my hope.'

 
61

Oh blessèd be the day, the month, the year,
the season and the time, the hour, the instant,
the gracious countryside, the place where I
was struck by those two lovely eyes that bound me;
and blessèd be the first sweet agony
I felt when I found myself bound to Love,
the bow and all the arrows that have pierced me,
the wounds that reach the bottom of my heart.
And blessèd be all of the poetry
I scattered, calling out my lady's name,
and all the sighs, and tears, and the desire;
blessèd be all the paper upon which
I earn her fame, and every thought of mine,
only of her, and shared with no one else.

 
70

Oh what to do with all that hope of mine
by now betrayed so many many times!
Since no one offers me an ear of pity,
why cast so many prayers into the air?
But should it be that I not be denied
an end to my poor words
before my end has come,
I beg my lord it please him let me say
again one day free in the grass and flowers:
'It's right and just that I sing and be joyful.'
There is good reason that I sing sometimes,
since for so long a time I have been sighing
that I could never start too soon to make
my smiling equal to my many woes.
If I could only make those holy eyes
receive delight somehow
from some sweet words of mine,
how blessèd would I be above all lovers!
But more so if in truth I were to say:
'A lady begs me, so I wish to speak.'
My yearning thoughts that step by step have led
my reasoning to heights unreachable,
you see my lady's heart is hard as stone,
and on my own I cannot enter it.
She does not deign to look down low enough
to care about our words;
it is not Heaven's will,
and I am weary now from opposition,
and since my heart is hard and bitter now
'So in my speech I now wish to be harsh.'
What am I saying? Where am I? Who cheats
me more than I and my excessive wants?
My mind could run the heavens sphere to sphere
and find no star condemning me to tears;
if mortal veil it is that dulls my sight,
what fault is it of stars
or any lovely thing?
In me dwells one who night and day gives grief,
since she gave me the burden of the pleasure:
'Her sweet presence and her soft, lovely glance.'
All things adorning our world with their beauty
came forth in goodness from the Master's hand,
but I who cannot see so deep in her
am dazzled by the beauty on the outside;
should I ever again see the true light,
my eyes will not resist,
so weak have they become
by their own fault and not by that day's fault
when I turned them to her angelic beauty
'In the sweet season of my youthful age.'

 
134

I find no peace, and I am not at war,
I fear and hope, and burn and I am ice;
I fly above the heavens, and lie on earth,
and I grasp nothing and embrace the world.
One keeps me jailed who neither locks nor opens,
nor keeps me for her own nor frees the noose;
Love does not kill, nor does he loose my chains;
he wants me lifeless but won't loosen me.
I see with no eyes, shout without a tongue;
I yearn to perish, and I beg for help;
I hate myself and love somebody else.
I thrive on pain and laugh with all my tears;
I dislike death as much as I do life:
because of you, lady, I am this way.