Petrarch, Il Canzoniere, #35.

  1     Alone and thoughtful, through the most desolate fields,
  2     I go measuring out slow, hesitant paces,
  3     and keep my eyes intent on fleeing
  4     any place where human footsteps mark the sand.
  5     I find no other defence to protect me
  6     from other people's open notice,
  7     since in my aspect, whose joy is quenched,
  8     they see from outside how I flame within.
  9     So now I believe that mountains and river-banks
 10     and rivers and forests know the quality
 11     of my life, hidden from others.
 12     Yet I find there is no path so wild or harsh
 13     that love will not always come there
 14     speaking with me, and I with him.