144. ‘Né così bello il sol già mai levarsi’

when the sky was wholly free of cloud,

nor seen the heavenly bow after rain

so variously coloured in the air,

as I saw that face, and my words fall short,

with which no mortal thing can be compared,

transformed by so many shades of flame,

on the day that I took up this loving burden.

I saw Love directing her lovely eyes

so sweetly, that, from then, all other sights

began to seem like darkness to me.

Sennuccio, I saw him, and the bow he bends,

so that my life became no longer safe,

and yet I long to see it still, again.

Notes