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Explanation:
Sonnet 307 by Petrarch
O lovely little bird, I watch you fly,
And grieving for the past I hear you sing.
I see the night and winter hastening,
I see the day and happy summer die.
If you could hear my heart in answer cry
Its pain to your sad tune, you’d swiftly wing Into my bosom, comfort you would bring And we would weep together, you and I.
‘Tis no equality of woe I fear;
Perhaps she lives whom you bewail; from me Have greedy death and heaven snatched my dear,
But the dark autumn evening hour sets free The memory of many a banished year
So let us talk of the past then, tenderly.