173. ‘Mirando’l sol de’ begli occhi sereno,’

Gazing at the sunlight of those calm lovely eyes,

where he, who darkens and bathes mine, lives,

my weary soul is ready to leave my heart

to travel to its earthly paradise.

Then finding itself full of the bitter and the sweet,

its sees what the world weaves are spiders’ webs:

so that it complains to itself, and Love,

that he has such keen spurs, so harsh a rein.

Between these two opposing, mixed extremes,

now with icy, now with hot desire,

it stands between misery and happiness.

not often joyful, and so often sad,

it regrets its eager ventures more deeply:

when such is the fruit born of such a root.