169. ‘Pien d’un vago penser che me desvia’

Full of a wandering thought that separates me

from all other men, and makes me go lonely through the world,

hour after hour I am tempted from myself

searching for her, whom I should fly from:

and I see her go by so sweet and deadly

that my soul trembles to rise in flight,

she leads such a troop of armed sighs with her,

this beautiful enemy of Love, and of me.

Truly if I am not wrong I see a ray of pity

shine from that high clouded brow,

that partly brightens my grieving heart:

then I recall my soul, and when I start

to reveal my ill-conceived thoughts to her,

I have so much to say to her, I dare not begin.