244. ‘Il mal mi preme, et mi spaventa il peggio,’

My ills press on me and I fear the worst,

to which I see a broad and open road,

since I’m in a like frenzy within,

and rage as you do with harsh thoughts:

I don’t know whether to ask God for war or peace,

since the harm is great, or the shame is cruel.

But why worry more? What will become of us

is ordained already in the highest place.

Though I’m not worthy of the great honour

you show me, since Love deceives you,

who often makes clear eyes see awry,

raise your soul to those celestial regions:

that’s my counsel, spur your heart above:

since the road is long and time is short.

Note: A reply to a sonnet by the Paduan poet.

Giovanni Dondi asking for advice in love.