I swear to you, Love, by your arrows,
And by your powerful holy flame,
I care not if by one I-m maimed,
My heart burned, wasted by the other:
However far through times past or coming,
There never was nor will be woman
Whomever of them you wish to name,
Could know such sharpness, such devouring:
For there-s a virtue born from suffering,
That dims and conquers the sense of pain,
So that it-s barely felt, seems scarcely hurting.
No! This, that torments soul and body again,
This is the real fear presaging my dying:
What if my fire be only straw and flame?
I Swear To You, Love, By Your Arrows
Gaspara Stampa
(1)
Poem topics: I love you, fear, fire, heart, never, pain, woman, soul, real, sense, holy, body, swear, love, flame, I miss you, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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