My Galley, Charged with Forgetfullness

My galley chargèd with forgetfulness
Thorough² sharp seas, in winter nights doth pass
Tween rock and rock; and eke³ mine enemy, alas,
That is my lord, steereth with cruelness,
And every oar a thought in readiness,
As though that death were light in such a case.⁴
An endless wind doth tear the sail apace
Of forcèd sighs and trusty fearfulness.⁵
A rain of tears, a cloud of dark disdain,
Hath done the wearied cords great hinderance;
Wreathèd with error and eke with ignorance.
The stars be hid that led me to this pain.
Drownèd is reason that should me consort,⁶
And I remain despairing of the port.

Sir Thomas Wyatt(1503-1542)

Esta es una traducción de un poema de Petrarca.