Dante Alighieri (1265–1321)

Translated by Sir Theodore Martin
From the “Vita Nuova”

RIDING some days agone in piteous mood,

Heart sick and weary with the journey’s fret,

Full in the middle of the way I met

Love in a pilgrim’s habit, worn and rude.

His air, methought, was saddened and subdued,

As he had been despoilèd of his sway;

And he came, sadly sighing, up the way,

With downcast eyes, unwilling to be viewed.

When he beheld me, calling me by name,

I come, he said, from yon far region, now,

Where dwelt thy heart, while that to me seemed fit,

And for new service back am bringing it.

Then I so wrapt in thought of him became,

That he had vanished, and I know not how.