Explore "L' Aura Soave Ch' Al Sol Spiega E Vibra" by Francesco Petrarca on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
HIS HEART LIES TANGLED IN HER HAIR.
The pleasant gale, that to the sun unplaits / And spreads the gold Love's fingers weave, and braid / O'er her fine eyes, and all around her head, / Fetters my heart, the wishful sigh creates: / No nerve but thrills, no artery but beats, / Approaching my fair arbiter with dread, / Who in her doubtful scale hath ofttimes weigh'd / Whether or death or life on me awaits; / Beholding, too, those eyes their fires display, / And on those shoulders shine such wreaths of hair, / Whose witching tangles my poor heart ensnare.