235. ‘Lasso, Amor mi trasporta ov’io non voglio,’

and I know my journey is towards her

so that I’m more annoying than before

to her who is the queen of my heart:

no skilful sailor ever guided his boat

through reefs, with thanks for his precious cargo,

as often as I have done my frail craft,

through the battering received from her harsh pride.

But tearful rain and fierce storms

of endless sighs now drive my vessel on,

through my sea vile with wintry darkness,

bringing harm to her, grief and torment

to itself, nothing else, beaten by the waves,

stripped of its sails and its rudder.

Notes