For in her more than in other arms my breast had its accustomed pity, which makes it wise; so for her, with suspicion and with deceit, I often fled the longed-for bed.
O quante volte, al mio dolce ricetto, fuggendo altrui e me stesso e ’l mio affanno, di lagrime ancor bagno l’erba e ’l panno, per tema più che per qualche dispetto. o quante volte pdf
But since Love made me his lord, neither poverty nor death frightens me; rather he prizes servitude and death. For in her more than in other arms
It seems you are asking about the content of the PDF for the poem (often the first line of a sonnet or a lyric poem, possibly by Petrarch or from the Canzoniere ). It seems you are asking about the content
Oh how many times, to my sweet refuge, fleeing others and myself and my anguish, I still wet the grass and cloth with tears, more from fear than from any displeasure.
Ché ’n lei più che ’n altr’arme ebbe il mio petto l’usata pietà, che lo fa sanno; onde per lei con sospetto e con inganno fuggir più volte il desïato letto.