236. ‘Amor, io fallo, et veggio il mio fallire,’

but I was a man burning, with fire in his breast,

whose grief increased as his reason grew less,

and is almost overcome now by pain.

I once could rein in my hot desire,

so as not to trouble that calm lovely face:

I can no more: from my hand you take the reins,

and the desperate soul has gathered courage.

So if it ventures beyond your limits,

it is your doing, who stir me so and spur me,

I try every harsh path to my salvation:

and the rare celestial gifts my lady shows

are more to blame: now at least let her feel

she has to pardon my crime in herself.

Notes