1

After Cino da Pistoia
c. 1270-1337

i

In fields I look for each white flower
Remembering what makes me sigh.

It's her white blouse that I remember
When the sharp arrow of Venus' archer
Lodged in my heart. When a light air
Lifts a white petal, I remember
The sweeter white of her eye
And my desire is for ever.

ii

I was upon the high and happy mountain
I loved, and stumbled on that headstone
Where honesty laid a forehead down,
And which shut off all virtues' fountain
That day when through death's bitter pass
Was thrust the woman of my heart -
Alas that beauty, alas that charm.
...