‘Come talora al caldo tempo sòle'
As at times in hot sunny weather
a guileless butterfly accustomed to the light,
flies in its wanderings into someone's face,
causing it to die, and the other to weep:
so I am always running towards the sunlight of her eyes,
fatal to me, from which so much sweetness comes
that Love takes no heed of the reins of reason:
and he who discerns them is conquered by his desire.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem