Francesco Petrarca (1304–1374)

Translated by Charles Bagot Cayley

IF amorous faith, a heart of guileless ways,

Soft languors, courteously controlled desire,

And virtuous will, kindled with noble fire,

And lengthened wanderings in a lightless maze;

If thoughts, which evermore the brow displays,

Or words that faint and brokenly suspire,

Still checked with fear and shame; if hues no higher

Than the pale violet hath, or love displays;

If holding some one than one’s self more dear,

If sorrowing and sighing evermore,

If chewing grief, and rage, and many a cross,

If burning far away, and freezing near,

Are signs that Love consumes me to the core,

Yours, lady, is the fault and mine the loss.