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CLX
Amor et io si pien' di meravigliacome chi mai cosa incredibil vide,miriam costei quand'ella parla o rideche sol se stessa, et nulla altra, simiglia.Dal bel seren de le tranquille cigliasfavillan si le mie due stelle fide,ch'altro lume non e ch'infiammi et guidechi d'amar altamente si consiglia.Qual miracolo e quel, quando tra l'erbaquasi un fior siede, over quand'ella premecol suo candido seno un verde cespo!Qual dolcezza e ne la stagione acerbavederla ir sola co i pensier' suoi inseme,tessendo un cerchio a l'oro terso et crespo!.
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CXXX
My mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun;
Coral is far more red, than her lips red:
If snow be white, why then her breasts are dun;
If hairs be wires, black wires grow on her head.
I have seen roses damask'd, red and white,
But no such roses see I in her cheeks;
And in some perfumes is there more delight
Than in the breath that from my mistress reeks.
I love to hear her speak, yet well I know
That music hath a far more pleasing sound:
I grant I never saw a goddess go,
My mistress, when she walks, treads on the ground:
And yet by heaven, I think my love as rare,
As any she belied with false compare.