Wednesday, June 13, 2007

Sí tosto come aven che l’arco scocchi

As soon as ever he has launched his arrows,
the expert archer can see from afar
which shots have gone astray, and those
he’s sure will hit the target he assigned:

so you knew the arrows from your eyes,
lady, had pierced straight to my deepest part,
and I’d be forced to weep eternally
because of the wound my heart received.

And I am certain of what you said then:
‘Wretched lover, where will crying lead him?
Behold the arrow by which Love hoped he’d die.’

Now, seeing how grief has bound me,
all that my enemies do with me now,
is not to kill me but increase my pain.

By Petrarch

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