324. ‘Amor, quando fioria’

Love, when my hope

was flowering, the reward for great loyalty,

she, whose mercy I waited for, was taken from me.

Ah, pitiless death, ah cruel life!

One plunged me in grief,

and bitterly quenched my hopes:

the other holds me here against my will,

and she who has gone

I cannot follow: she will not let me.

But, in every moment, my lady

is seated in the centre of my heart,

and what my life is now, she sees.