95. ‘Cosí potess’io ben chiuder in versi’

If I could imprison in my verses

the thoughts imprisoned in my heart,

there’s no spirit in this world so cruel

it would not be saddened out of pity.

But you, eyes of beauty, from which I felt

the blow, not wearing a helmet or a shield,

you see me naked, inside and out,

though my grief is not poured out in tears.

Since your vision shines in me,

like a ray of sunlight through glass,

my desire is enough, without my speaking.

Alas, faith never harmed Mary or Peter,

faith, that’s an enemy to me alone:

as I know none but you could understand.