223. ‘Quando ’l sol bagna in mar l’aurato carro,’

When the sun dips his golden chariot in the sea,

darkening the air and my mind,

together with the sky, and stars, and moon

I endure a harsh and painful night.

Then, alas, I relate all my troubles

one by one, so that no one hears me,

and quarrel with blind fate, and the world,

with Love, and my lady, and myself.

Sleep’s banished: there is no chance of rest:

but sighs and complaints till the dawn,

and tears, the soul sends to the eyes.

Then daybreak comes, and brightens the dark air,

but not me: the sun, that burns the heart

and blesses, alone can ease my pain.