158. ‘Ove ch’i’ posi gli occhi lassi o giri’

Where ever I turn my weary eyes or rest them,

to quiet the longing that excites them,

I find that someone depicts that lovely lady

so my desire might be always fresh.

She seems to breathe with graceful sadness

a noble pity that stirs the gentle heart:

beyond sight, hearing is adorned, enchanted

by her living voice and sacred sighs.

Love and truth with me declared I saw

beauty that was unique on earth,

never seen again beneath the stars.

Such sweet and piteous words were never

heard before, nor were such lovely tears seen

to fall from such lovely eyes beneath the sun.