Gaspara Stampa

(1523 - 1554 / Padua)

Rime 43 - Poem by Gaspara Stampa

Harsh is my fortune, but harsher still is the fate
dealt me by my count: he flees from me,
I follow him; others long for me,
I cannot look at another man's face.

I hate him who loves me,love him who scorns me;
against the humble lover, my heart rebels,
but I am humble to him who kill my hope;
my soul longs for such harmful food.


He constantly gives me cause for anger,
while others seek to give me comfort and peace;
these I ignore, and I cling instead to him.


Thus in your school, Love, we receive
always the opposite of what we deserve:
the humble are despised, the heartless rewarded.


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Read poems about / on: anger, school, food, hate, fate, peace, hope, love, heart



Poem Submitted: Thursday, January 1, 2004



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