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Voi ch’ascoltate in rime sparse il suono
Oh, you who hear in soft and scattered lays
The strains and sighs on which I fed my heart
In my less learned and unwise earlier days,
When my youth bade me play a different part.
Weeping and reasoning in varied styles,
And vacillating over hope and pain,
To those with knowledge gained through love’s stern trials,
I pray that their pardon may be obtained.
For, now I clearly see that at the root
I’m treated like a tale, such that too often,
What I was has become a shameful scene;
I learned that vanity bears but vain fruit,
Repentance, and the sober recognition
That most of what we love is but a dream.
Translation © David B. Gosselin
Original
Voi ch’ascoltate in rime sparse il suono
di quei sospiri ond’io nudriva ’l core
in sul mio primo giovenile errore
quand’era in parte altr’uom da quel ch’i’ sono,
del vario stile in ch’io piango et ragiono
fra le vane speranze e ’l van dolore,
ove sia chi per prova intenda amore,
spero trovar pietà, nonché perdono.
Ma ben veggio or sì come al popol tutto
favola fui gran tempo, onde sovente
di me medesmo meco mi vergogno;
et del mio vaneggiar vergogna è ’l frutto,
e ’l pentersi, e ’l conoscer chiaramente
che quanto piace al mondo è breve sogno.
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