Francesco Petrarch

(1304-1374 / Arezzo, Italy)

Francesco Petrarch Poems

1. Canzone XVI 10/13/2015
2. Doth any Maiden Seek The Glorious Fame 10/24/2015
3. Sonnet 131 [I'd sing of Love in such a novel fashion] 6/10/2016
4. Sonnet 101 [Ways apt and new to sing of love I'd find] 6/10/2016
5. You who hear the sound, in scattered rhymes, 6/10/2016
6. To make a graceful act of revenge, 6/10/2016
7. It was on that day when the sun's ray 6/10/2016
8. What infinite providence and art 6/10/2016
9. When I utter sighs, in calling out to you 6/10/2016
10. My passion's folly is so led astray 6/10/2016
11. Greed and sleep and slothful beds 6/10/2016
12. At the foot of the hill where beauty's garment 6/10/2016
13. When the heavenly body that tells the hours 6/10/2016
14. Glorious pillar in whom rests 6/10/2016
15. If my life of bitter torment and of tears 6/10/2016
16. When from hour to hour among the other ladies 6/10/2016
17. My weary eyes, there, while I turn you 6/10/2016
18. I turn back at every step I take 6/10/2016
19. Grizzled and white the old man leaves 6/10/2016
20. Bitter tears pour down my face 6/10/2016
21. There are creatures in the world with such other 6/10/2016
22. I have offered you my heart a thousand times 6/10/2016
23. The time to labour, for every animal 6/10/2016
24. Alone and thoughtful, through the most desolate fields, 6/10/2016
25. Blessed be the day, and the month, and the year, 6/10/2016
26. Heavenly Father, after the lost days, 6/10/2016
27. She let her gold hair scatter in the breeze 6/10/2016
28. A new young angel carried by her wings 6/10/2016
29. The heavens have revolved for seventeen years 6/10/2016
30. That wandering paleness which conceals 6/10/2016
31. Clear, sweet fresh water 6/10/2016
32. Love leads me on, from thought to thought, 6/10/2016
33. What do I feel if this is not love? 6/10/2016
34. I find no peace, and yet I make no war: 6/10/2016
35. As at times in hot sunny weather 6/10/2016
36. Not Ticino, Po, Varo, Arno, Adige or Tiber 6/10/2016
37. No weary helmsman ever fled for harbour 6/10/2016
38. From what part of the heavens, from what idea 6/10/2016
39. Now that the sky and the earth and the wind are silent 6/10/2016
40. Full of a wandering thought that separates me 6/10/2016

Comments about Francesco Petrarch

  • xxxtentation (5/18/2018 7:31:00 AM)

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  • dad and mom (4/19/2018 9:54:00 PM)

    buji suar de bushi jiijhro itc roixkfriftfki

  • Fabrizio Frosini Fabrizio Frosini (10/13/2015 8:45:00 AM)

    and the original text of Petrarch's sonnet CCCX:

    Zephiro torna, e ’l bel tempo rimena,
    e i fiori et l’erbe, sua dolce famiglia,
    et garrir Progne et pianger Philomena,
    et primavera candida et vermiglia.

    Ridono i prati, e ’l ciel si rasserena;
    Giove s’allegra di mirar sua figlia;
    l’aria et l’acqua et la terra è d’amor piena;
    ogni animal d’amar si riconsiglia.

    Ma per me, lasso, tornano i piú gravi
    sospiri, che del cor profondo tragge
    quella ch’al ciel se ne portò le chiavi;

    et cantar augelletti, et fiorir piagge,
    e ’n belle donne honeste atti soavi
    sono un deserto, et fere aspre et selvagge.

  • Fabrizio Frosini Fabrizio Frosini (10/13/2015 8:44:00 AM)

    here is one of Petrarch's sonnet - CCCX:

    Zephyrus returns, and brings clear weather,
    and flowers and grasses, the whole sweet family,
    and Procne’s quarrelsome call, and Philomel’s weeping,
    and spring’s white and vermilion.
    The meadows exult and the skies turn serene,
    Jove’s happy to see daughter Venus,
    air and water and earth, all full of love,
    every animal reconciles itself again to loving.
    For me, though, alas! the weightiest sighs
    return, drawing up out of my heart’s deeps
    the one who’d owned the keys to heaven.
    And singing of little birds and flowering fields,
    the pretty girls act perfectly disgraceful
    like in a desert, like bitter and savage beasts.

Best Poem of Francesco Petrarch

From 'Visions'

Being one day at my window all alone,
So manie strange things happened me to see,
As much as it grieveth me to thinke thereon.
At my right hand a hynde appear'd to mee,
So faire as mote the greatest god delite;
Two eager dogs did her pursue in chace.
Of which the one was blacke, the other white:
With deadly force so in their cruell race

They pincht the haunches of that gentle beast,
That at the last, and in short time, I spide,
Under a rocke, where she alas, opprest,
Fell to the ground, and there untimely ...

Read the full of From 'Visions'

Canzone XVI

O my own Italy! though words are vain
The mortal wounds to close,
Unnumber'd, that thy beauteous bosom stain,
Yet may it soothe my pain
To sigh forth Tyber's woes,
And Arno's wrongs, as on Po's sadden'd shore
Sorrowing I wander, and my numbers pour.

Ruler of heaven! By the all-pitying love

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