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Italian Poetry to 1600

By Various

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Book Id: WPLBN0002171617
Format Type: PDF eBook:
File Size: 0.2 MB
Reproduction Date: 11/5/2012

Title: Italian Poetry to 1600  
Author: Various
Language: English
Subject: Fiction, Drama and Literature, Italian Poetry
Collections: Authors Community, Poetry
Publication Date:
Publisher: A. S. Kline
Member Page: Tony Kline


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Various, B. (n.d.). Italian Poetry to 1600. Retrieved from

A selection of poems from Early and Renaissance Italy. Including translations of poems by Guido Cavalcanti, Lorenzo de Medici, Poliziano, Michelangelo, Vittoria Colonna, Gaspara Stampa, and Tasso.

Table of Contents
Jacopo Da Lentino (c1200-1250) I have placed my heart in God’s service Pier Della Vigne (1190-1249?) Love in whom I hope and desire, Anonymous Go now my love, goodbye now, Guido Cavalcanti (c1255-1300) You have, in you, the leaves and flowers Who is this that comes and all admire her, Fresh new rose O, my lady, have you not seen One Deep in thoughts of love, I came As I’ve no hope of returning ever, Lapo Gianni (c1250-1328?) The thought my heart nourishes is sweet, Cino Da Pistoia (c1270-1337) In the meadow I gaze at each white flower, I was on the high and blessed hill, Dante Alighieri (1265-1321) Guido, I wish that Lapo, you, and I, Giovanni Boccaccio (1313-1375) Now, my dear lord, you are gone Lorenzo De Medici (1449-1492) How beautiful our Youth is Angelo Poliziano (1454-1494) Hear, woods, my words of sweetness I found myself, one morning, maidens, Love, I thank you, Michelangelo Buonarroti (1475-1564) I have bought you, at no small cost, Love, tell me please, if it’s with my eyes Lady, as one fancies there to be The best of sculptors has not one idea Vittoria Colonna (1490-1547) I live upon this wretched solitary cliff Gaspara Stampa (1523-1554) I swear to you, Love, by your arrows, Every planet above, and every star, O Night, brighter, more blessed for me, O all my labours scattered uselessly, Torquato Tasso (1544-1595) Life of my life, you seem to me O you, far colder, whiter Hedge, that divides the lovely What weeping, or what dewfall, I love you only because you’re lovely, Once we were happy, I To the Duchess of Ferrara


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