The Sonnets, Triumphs, and Other Poems of Petrarch

Voi, ch’ ascoltate in rime sparse il suono.

Ye who in rhymes dispersed the echoes hear Of those sad sighs with which my heart I fed When early youth my mazy wanderings led, Fondly diverse from what I now appear, Fluttering ’twixt frantic hope and frantic fear, From those by whom my various style is read, I hope, if e’er their hearts for love have bled, Not only pardon, but perhaps a tear. But now I clearly see that of mankind Long time I was the tale: whence bitter thought And self-reproach with frequent blushes teem; While of my frenzy, shame the fruit I find, And sad repentance, and the proof, dear-bought, That the world’s joy is but a flitting dream.

Charlemont.

O ye, who list in scatter’d verse the sound Of all those sighs with which my heart I fed, When I, by youthful error first misled, Unlike my present self in heart was found; Who list the plaints, the reasonings that abound Throughout my song, by hopes, and vain griefs bred; If e’er true love its influence o’er ye shed, Oh! let your pity be with pardon crown’d. But now full well I see how to the crowd For length of time I proved a public jest: E’en by myself my folly is allow’d: And of my vanity the fruit is shame, Repentance, and a knowledge strong imprest, That worldly pleasure is a passing dream.