Sonnet: My Lady

My lady carries love within her eyes;
All that she looks on is made pleasanter;
Upon her path men turn to gaze at her;
He whom she greeteth feels his heart to rise,
And droops is troubled visage, full of sighs,
And of his evil heart is then aware:
Hates loves, and pride becomes his worshipper.
O women, help to praise her in somewise.
Humbleness, and the hope that hopeth well,
By speech of hers into the mind are brought,
And who beholds is blessed oftenwhiles.
The look she hath when she a little smiles
Cannot be said, nor holden in the thought;
'Tis such a new and gracious miracle.

by Dante Alighieri

Comments (3)

beautiful thoughts but the translation suffers from being somewhat archaic. Better read in the Italian.
it must be sonnet the type of poem 'written on those years... given that form to could be challenging. ...this is nice poem
This sonnet reminded me Lord Byrons, She Walks In Beauty. Enjoyed. Thanks for sharing.