Upon the breeze she spread her golden hair
that in a thousand gentle knots was turned
and the sweet light beyond all radiance burned
in eyes where now that radiance is rare;
and in her face there seemed to come an air
of pity, true or false, that I discerned:
I had love’s tinder in my breast unburned,
was it a wonder if it kindled there?
She moved not like a mortal, but as though
she bore an angel’s form, her words had then
a sound that simple human voices lack;
a heavenly spirit, a living sun
was what I saw; now, if it is not so,
the wound’s not healed because the bow goes.
Erano i capei d’oro a l’aura sparsi
che ’n mille dolci nodi gli avolgea,
e ’l vago lume oltra misura ardea
di quei begli occhi, ch’or ne son sì scarsi;
e ’l viso di pietosi color’ farsi,
non so se vero o falso, mi parea:
i’ che l’esca amorosa al petto avea,
qual meraviglia se di sùbito arsi?
Non era l’andar suo cosa mortale,
ma d’angelica forma; e le parole
sonavan altro che, pur voce umana;
uno spirto celeste, un vivo sole
fu quel ch’i’ vidi: e se non fosse or tale,
piagha per allentar d’arco non sana
Related Posts:
- John Keats - Oh, se un raggio di sole / O, for some…
- Fernando Pessoa - Mouth of scarlet rice
- Fernando Pessoa - I gaze at the silent lake
- Francesco Petrarca (Petrarch)- Zephyr returns /…
- Guido Gozzano - Ad un'ignota / To an unknown
- Giuseppe Ungaretti - Where the light / Dove la luce
- Torquato Tasso - Rhyme 268
- Crowned With Flowers
- Francesco Petrarca (1304-1374)
- Anna Akhmatova - To death
- John Keats - Io ti grido pietà! Amore / I cry your…
- Antonia Pozzi - Riflessi / Reflections