143. ‘Quand’io v’odo parlar sí dolcemente’

When I hear you speak so sweetly,

as Love instils in all his followers,

my desire burns, all sparkling,

so even dead souls would be inflamed.

Then I find my lovely lady before me,

those times when she was sweet and peaceable,

which wakes me, not like a chiming bell

but often with the sounds of my own sighs.

I see her hair scattered by the breeze,

and she turning: so she returns so lovely

to my heart, like one who holds the key.

But the overwhelming pleasure, that ties

my tongue, has not the boldness to show

more clearly what it is she means inside me.