Sonnet 134 Prose Translation

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Sonnet 134
by Petrarch, translated by Sir Thomas Wyatt the Elder
Prose Translation

A MODERN PROSE TRANSLATION

Peace I do not find, and I have no wish to make war; and I fear and hope, and burn and am of ice, and I fly above the heavens and lie on the ground; and I grasp nothing and embrace all the world

One has me in prison who neither opens or locks, neither keeps me for his own nor unties the bonds; and Love does not kill and does not unchain me, he neither wishes me alive nor frees me from the tangle.

I see without eyes, and I have no tongue and yet cry out; and I wish to perish and I ask for help; and I hate myself and love another.

I feed on pain, weeping I laugh; equally displeasing to me are death and life. In this state am I, Lady, on account of you.