O primavera
O primavera gioventù de l’anno,
Bella madre di fiori,
D’erbe novelle e di novelli Amori.
Tu ben lasso ritorni,
Ma senza i cari giorni
Delle speranze mie.
Tu ben sei quella
Ch’eri pur dianzi si vezzosa e bella.
Ma non son io gia quel ch’un tempo fui,
Si caro a gl’occhi altrui.
O spring, the year’s youth,
Lovely mother of flowers
And of new grass and new loves.
You are, alas, returned,
But without the dear days of my hopes.
You are still that which you were,
So fair and lovely to my sight.
But I am not what I once was,
Dear to the eyes of another.