Explore "The Causes of his Woe" by Francesco Petrarca on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Love, Fortune, and my melancholy mind, / Sick of the present, lingering on the past, / Afflict me so, that envious thoughts I cast / On those who life's dark shore have left behind.
Love racks my bosom: Fortune's wintry wind / Kills every comfort: my weak mind at last / Is chafed and pines, so many ills and vast / Expose its peace to constant strifes unkind.