July312011

Sonnet 134: Francesco Petrarca

I find no peace, and have no arms for war, 
and fear and hope, and burn and yet I freeze, 
and fly to heaven, lying on earth’s floor, 
and nothing hold, and all the world I seize.

My jailer opens not, nor locks the door, 
nor binds me to hear, nor will loose my ties; 
Love kills me not, nor breaks the chains I wear, 
nor wants me living, nor will grant me ease.

I have no tongue, and shout; eyeless, I see;
I long to perish, and I beg for aid;
I love another, and myself I hate.

Weeping I laugh, I feed on misery,
by death and life so equally dismayed:
for you, my lady, am I in this state.

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