188. ‘Almo Sol, quella fronde ch’io sola amo’

Kindly Sun, that only branch I love,

that you loved once, alone retains

its lovely green, and is unequalled

since Adam first saw his ill and ours.

‘Let’s stop to gaze’: O, Sun, I call on you

in prayer: yet you still go, and make the hills

turn to shadow, and carry off the day,

taking from me what I most long for.

The shadow, falling on that humble hill

where my gentle fire is still sparkling

where the great laurel was a tiny shoot,

deepening while I speak, takes the sweet sight

of that blessed place from my eyes,

where its lady lives, and this heart of mine.