340. ‘Dolce mio caro et precïoso pegno,’

My sweet, dear and precious pledge

that nature took from me, and Heaven guards,

ah why is your mercy so slow to reach me,

that used to sustain my very life?

Once my sleep at least was worthy

of seeing you, but now you let me burn

without cool relief: and who delays you?

Surely no anger or disdain exists up there:

though here, in truth, a deeply pitying heart

sometimes feeds on others torments,

so that Love’s defeated in his own kingdom.

You who see within me, and feel my ills,

and who alone can end such sadness,

ease my sorrows with your shade.