165. ‘Come ’l candido pie’ per l’erba fresca’

When her white foot through the fresh grass

takes its sweet way, virtuously,

from her tender steps there seems to issue

a power that opens and renews the flowers.

Love who only hinders the gracious heart

not deigning to try his strength in other ways,

rains such keen pleasure from her lovely eyes

I care for no other good, long for no other bait.

And those sweetest words of hers accord

with her walk and her quiet gaze,

as do her gentle, calm and humble acts.

From those four sparks, but not merely those,

is born the great fire in which I live and burn,

like a bird of night dazzled by the sun.