Vita Nova – Dante Alighieri

Tanto gentile e tanto onesta pare
la donna mia, quand’ella altrui saluta,
ch’ogne lingua deven tremando muta,
e li occhi no l’ardiscon di guardare.
Ella si va, sentendosi laudare,
benignamente d’umiltà vestuta;
e par che sia una cosa venuta
da cielo in terra a miracol mostrare.
Mòstrasi sì piacente a chi la mira,
che dà per li occhi una dolcezza al core,
che ‘ntender no la può chi non la prova:
e par che de la sua labbia si mova
un spirito soave pien d’amore,
che va dicendo a l’anima: «Sospira!»

So gentle and so pure appears
my lady when she greets others,
that every tongue trembles and is mute,
and their eyes do not dare gaze at her.
She goes by, aware of their praise,
benignly dressed in humility:
and seems as if she were a thing come
from Heaven to Earth to show a miracle.
She shows herself so pleasing to those who gaze,
through the eyes she sends a sweetness to the heart,
that no one can understand who does not know it:
and from her lips there comes
a sweet spirit full of love,
that goes saying to the soul: ‘Sigh.’

Translation by A.S. Kline

O voi, che per la via d’Amor passate,
attendete e guardate s’elli è dolore alcun, quanto ‘l mio, grave;
e prego sol ch’audir mi sofferiate,
e poi imaginate s’io son d’ogni tormento ostale e chiave.
Amor, non già per mia poca bontate,
ma per sua nobiltate, mi pose in vita sì dolce e soave,
ch’io mi sentia dir dietro spesse fiate:
«Deo, per qual dignitate così leggiadro questi lo core have?»
Or ho perduta tutta mia baldanza,
che si movea d’amoroso tesoro;
ond’io pover dimoro,
in guisa che di dir mi ven dottanza.
Sì che volendo far come coloro
che per vergogna celan lor mancanza,
di fuor mostro allegranza,
e dentro dallo core struggo e ploro.

O you who on the way of Love go by,
listen and see if there is any grief, as grave as mine:
and I beg you only to suffer me to be heard,
and then reflect whether I am not the tower ù
and the key of every torment.
Love, indeed not for my slight worth
but through his nobility placed me in a life so sweet and gentle,
that often I would hear it said behind me:
‘God, for what virtue does this heart own so much delight?’
Now I have lost all my eloquence
which flowed so from love’s treasure:
and I am grown so poor in a way
that speech barely comes to me.
So that I desire to be like one
who to conceal his poverty through shame,
shows joy outwardly,
and within my heart am troubled and weep.

Translation by A.S: Kline