Translated by A. Z. Foreman - Sonnet 2 lyrics

To wreak a vengeance gentle and sublime, Punish a thousand wrongs by one day's blow: Stealth-handed Love once more took up his bow And, master marksman, found the place and time. My power retreated to my eyes and heart To stand ground in that double citadel Till the relentless, mortal blow befell That place that blunted every other dart. It lay thus, heartstruck by that first attack, With neither space nor strength to stand again And heed my summons to retaliate Nor yet a battle plan to draw me back From torment up to high and safe terrain, Torment it tries to spare me all too late.