Petrarchian Sonnet
Here is a sonnet by Francesco Petrarca in the octave/sestet form. The original text is below the translated version.
Solo e pensoso i piu deserti campi
Alone and pensive, the most deserted fields
I pace with steps lagging and slow,
And I hold my eyes watchfully, so as to flee
Wherever human traces mark the sand.
I find no other screen to protect me
From people's manifest awareness [of my state],
For in my acts extinct of joy
They can read from without how inwardly I blaze:

So that I now believe mountains and shores
And rivers and forests know of what temper
My life is, hidden from others.
And yet pathways so rough or wild
I know not how to seek where Love would not always come
Reasoning with me, and I with him.


Nell'Italiano

Solo e pensoso i piu deserti campi
Vo mesurando a passi tardi e lenti,
E gli occhi porto per fuggire intenti
Ove vestigio uman l'arena stampi.
Altro schermo non trovo che mi scampi
Dal manifesto accorger de le genti,
Perche negli atti d'allegrezza spenti
Di fuor si legge com'io dentro avampi:

Si ch'io mi credo omai che monti e piagge
E fiumi e selve sappian de che tempre
Sia la mia vita, ch'e celata altrui.
Ma pur si aspre vie ne si selvagge
Cercar non so, ch'Amor non venga sempre
Ragionando con meco, ed io con lui.

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