Explore "Aura, Che Quelle Chiome Bionde E Crespe" by Francesco Petrarca on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
HE ENVIES THE BREEZE WHICH SPORTS WITH HER, THE STREAM THAT FLOWS / TOWARDS HER.
Ye laughing gales, that sporting with my fair, / The silky tangles of her locks unbraid; / And down her breast their golden treasures spread; / Then in fresh mazes weave her curling hair, / You kiss those bright destructive eyes, that bear / The flaming darts by which my heart has bled; / My trembling heart! that oft has fondly stray'd / To seek the nymph, whose eyes such terrors wear.