SONNETTO CLIXSONNET 159
Francesco Petrarcatr. John Herman Merivale

Stiamo, Amor, a veder la gloria nostra,
Cose sopra natura altere e nove:
Vedi ben, quanta in lei dolcezza piove;
Vedi lume, che’l cielo in terra mostra.

Vedi, quant’ arte dora, e ’mperla, e ’nnostra
L’abito eletto, e mai non visto altrove;
Che dolcemente i piedi e gli occhi move
Per questa di bei colli ombrosa chiostra.

L’erbetta verde, e i fior di color mille
Sparsi sotto quell’elce antiqua e negra,
Pregan pur, che ’l bel, piè li prema, o tocchi;

E ’l ciel di vaghe e lucide faville
S’accende intorno, e ’n vista si rallegra
D’esser fatto seren da sì begli occhi.

Here stand we, Love, our glory to behold -
How, passing Nature, lovely, high, and rare!
Behold! what showers of sweetness falling there!
What floods of light by heaven to earth unroll'd!

How shine her robes, in purple, pearls, and gold,
So richly wrought, with skill beyond compare!
How glance her feet! - her beaming eyes how fair
Through the dark cloister which these hills enfold!

The verdant turf, and flowers of thousand hues
Beneath yon oak's old canopy of state,
Spring round her feet to pay their amorous duty.

The heavens, in joyful reverence, cannot choose
But light up all their fires, to celebrate
Her praise, whose presence charms their awful beauty.

next
index
translator's next