A Daily Countdown to 700 Years with the “colpi d’Amor”
“Benedetto sia ‘l giorno, et ‘l mese, et l’anno, / et la stagione, e’l tempo, et l’ora, e ‘l punto…” — Rvf 61
“Blessed be the day, and the month, and the year, and the season, and the time, and the hour, and the moment…”(Kline).
Io son già stanco di pensar sí come
i miei pensier’ in voi stanchi non sono,
et come vita anchor non abbandono
per fuggir de’ sospir’ sí gravi some;
et come a dir del viso et de le chiome
et de’ begli occhi, ond’io sempre ragiono,
non è mancata omai la lingua e ‘l suono
dí et notte chiamando il vostro nome;
et che’ pie’ non son fiaccati et lassi
a seguir l’orme vostre in ogni parte
perdendo inutilmente tanti passi;
et onde vien l’enchiostro, onde le carte
ch’i’ vo empiendo di voi: se ‘n ciò fallassi,
colpa d’Amor, non già defecto d’arte.
I am already wearied with thinking
of how my thoughts are never weary of you,
and how I’ve not abandoned life itself yet,
to flee so heavy a weight of sighs:
and how my tongue is never lacking sound
to speak of your face and your hair,
and your lovely eyes I always talk of,
calling on your name day and night:
and how my feet are never tired and weary
of following your footsteps everywhere,
spending so many paces uselessly:
and how from it comes all the ink and paper
where I go writing of you: if that is wrong,
it is Love’s fault, not a defect of my art.