LXXIX
   
  Voi che 'ntendendo il terzo ciel movete 
    udite il ragionar ch'è nel mio core, 
    ch'io nol so dire altrui, sì mi par novo. 
    El ciel che segue lo vostro valore, 
    gentili creature che voi sete, 
    mi tragge nello stato ov'io mi trovo. 
    Onde 'l parlar della vita ch'io provo, 
    par che si drizzi degnamente a vui: 
    però vi priego che lo mi 'ntendiate. 
    Io vi dirò del cor la novitate, 
    come l'anima trista piange in lui, 
    e come un spirto contra lei favella, 
    che vien pe' raggi della vostra stella. 
  Suol esser vita dello cor dolente 
    un soave penser, che se ne gìa 
    molte fïate a' pie' del nostro Sire, 
    ove una donna glorïar vedia, 
    di cui parlava me sì dolcemente 
    che l'anima dicea: «Io men vo' gire». 
    Or apparisce chi lo fa fuggire 
    e segnoreggia me di tal vertute, 
    che 'l cor ne trema che di fori appare. 
    Questi mi face una donna guardare, 
    e dice: «Chi veder vuol la salute, 
    faccia che li occhi d'esta donna miri, 
    sed e' non teme angoscia di sospiri».

LXXIX

   O you who move the third heaven 
by intellection, listen to the speech 
in my heart; it is so strange, I can 
declare it to no others. The heaven 
that moves following your power, 
noble creatures that you are, draws me 
into my present state; hence it seems 
that speech about the life I experience 
should properly be addressed to you: 
so let me beg your attention. I will tell you 
of my heart's strange condition --how my sad 
soul weeps in it, and how a spirit disputes 
with her, that comes in the rays from your star. 
   The life of my sorrowing heart used to be 
a gentle thought which would often take its way 
to the feet of our Lord, where it saw a lady 
in glory of whom it would speak to me so sweetly 
that my soul would declare: 'I wish to go 
there too.' But now one appears who puts it 
to flight, and who lords it over me 
with such power that the trembling 
in my heart is made visible. This newcomer 
makes me look at a woman, saying: 
'Let him who would see bliss 
gaze into this lady's eyes, provided 
he does not shrink from grievous sighing.' 
   The humble thought that used to speak to me 
of an angel crowned in heaven now meets 
an adversary who destroys it. The soul laments, 
still grieving at the plight of that thought, 
and says: 'Alas, how it flees, the compassionate 
one who consoled me? And she, my troubled soul, 
says of my eyes: 'Unlucky moment when such 
a woman saw them! And why did they not 
believe me about her? For I said: "Truly 
in her eyes must dwell the one who slays 
such as I am." But it was no use my being alert; 
it did not prevent them from gazing at a woman 
who is such that I die of the gazing.'