Petrarch (61 page)

Then with
that hand which I so much desired

she dries my eyes
and brings me with her words

sweetness no mortal man has ever felt:

“What good,” she says, “is
knowledge with despair
?

Stop weeping
. Have you not wept enough for me?

Were you
as much alive as I’m not dead
!”

Recalling
that which
Heaven now esteems
:

sweet look,
the tilting of her golden head
,

the face, and that angelic modesty

of voice which sweetened once and now makes sad,

I am amazed that I am still alive;

nor would I live if she who
makes one doubt

whether she is more lovely or more chaste,

were not
so quick to help me
when dawn comes
.

Oh
what sweet welcomings
, so chaste and kind!

And with what concentration she takes note

of
the long history
of my sufferings!

When light of day
appears to strike
her image,

to Heaven she returns—
she knows the ways
—

her eyes and both her cheeks
bathed in her tears
.

Fu forse un tempo dolce cosa amore

(non per ch’ i’ sappia il quando), or è si amara

che nulla più; ben sa ’l ver chi l’impara

com’ ò fatt’ io, con mio grave dolore.

Quella che fu del secol nostro onore,

or è del Ciel che tutto orna et rischiara,

fe’ mia requie a’ suoi giorni et breve et rara;

or m’à d’ogni riposo tratto fore.

Ogni mio ben crudel Morte m’à tolto,

né gran prosperità il mio stato avverso

po consolar di quel bel spirto sciolto.

Piansi et cantai; non so più mutar verso,

ma di et notte il duol ne l’alma accolto

per la lingua et per li occhi sfogo et verso.

Spinse amor et dolor ove ir non debbe

la mia lingua, aviata a lamentarsi,

a dir di lei per ch’ io cantai et arsi

quel che, se fusse ver, torto sarebbe;

ch’ assai ’l mio stato rio quetar devrebbe

quella beata, e ’l cor racconsolarsi

vedendo tanto lei domesticarsi

con colui che vivendo in cor sempre ebbe.

Et ben m’acqueto, et me stesso consolo,

né vorrei rivederla in questo inferno,

anzi voglio morire et viver solo;

ché più bella che mai con l’occhio interno

con li angeli la veggio alzata a volo

a pie’ del suo et mio Signore eterno.

Perhaps there was a time when love was sweet

(although I
know not when
), but now there’s nothing

more bitter! He
well knows the truth
who learns

the way I have through my hard suffering.

She who once was the
glory of our world

is now of Heaven which she
makes bright and lovely
;

she made my rest in her time brief and rare,

and now she has deprived me of all peace.

Cruel Death
robbed me
of all the good I had,

nor does
great bliss
of her free, lovely soul

afford my adverse state some consolation.

I wept and sang; I cannot change my ways:

but night and day the grief my soul collected

I
pour forth
with
my tongue
and through my eyes.

My tongue so used to grieving has been urged

by love and grief to
move in the wrong way
:

to say of her for whom I sang and burned

that which,
if it were true
,
would not be right
.

Her blessedness should be enough to quiet

my sad condition
and console my heart:

the fact
that she is so at home with Him

who while she lived was always in her heart.

And I am calmed and do
console myself
;

nor would I want to see her
in this hell
,

I would prefer
to die and live alone
.

More beautiful then ever my mind’s eye

beholds her with the angels high in flight

at
the feet of her
and
my eternal Lord
.

Li angeli eletti et l’anime beate

cittadine del Cielo, il primo giorno

che Madonna passò, le fur intorno

piene di meraviglia et di pietate.

“Che luce è questa et qual nova beltate?”

dicean tra lor: “perch’ abito si adorno

dal mondo errante a quest’alto soggiorno

non sali mai in tutta questa etate.”

Ella, contenta aver cangiato albergo,

si paragona pur coi più perfetti

et parte ad or ad or si volge a tergo,

mirando s’io la seguo, et par ch’ aspetti;

ond’ io voglie et pensier tutti al Ciel ergo

perch’ i’ l’odo pregar pur ch’ i’ m’affretti.

Donna che lieta col Principio nostro

ti stai, come tua vita alma rechiede,

assisa in alta et gloriosa sede

et d’altro ornata che di perle o d’ostro,

o de le donne altero et raro mostro:

or nel volto di lui che tutto vede

vedi ’l mio amore et quella pura fede

per ch’ io tante versai lagrime e ’nchiostro,

et senti che ver te il mio core in terra

tal fu qual ora è in Cielo, et mai non volsi

altro da te che ’l sol de li occhi tuoi.

Dunque per amendar la lunga guerra

per cui dal mondo a te sola mi volsi,

prega ch’ i’ venga tosto a star con voi.

The chosen angels
and the blessèd souls

of
Heaven’s citizens
,
on the first day

my lady passed away, surrounded her,

all full of wonder and of reverence.

“
What light is this
, and what unusual beauty,”

they said to one another, “for
so lovely

a soul in all this time
has never risen

out of the erring world to this high home.”

She, happy to have
changed her dwelling place
,

is equal
to the most perfected souls;

meanwhile, from time to time, she turns to see

if I am following her
, and seems to wait,

so all my thoughts and wishes
strain to Heaven
—

I even hear her praying
that I hurry
.

Lady, now happy
in our Maker’s presence

as your reward for such a holy life,

seated upon a high and
glorious throne
,

adorned with other things than
pearls and purple
,

O lofty and
rare wonder
among ladies:

now
in the face of Him
who sees all things

you see my love and that
pure faith of mine

for which I poured such tears and
so much ink
,

you know my heart felt for you then on earth

what it feels now
in Heaven—I never wanted

more from you than the
sunlight of your eyes
.

So then
, to make amends for the long war

which turned me from the world to you alone,

pray that I come, and soon, to be with you.

Da’ più belli occhi, et dal più chiaro viso

che mai splendesse, et da’ più bei capelli

che facean l’oro e ’l sol parer men belli,

dal più dolce parlare et dolce riso,

da le man, da le braccia che conquiso

senza moversi avrian quai più rebelli

fur d’Amor mai, da’ più bei piedi snelli:

da la persona fatta in paradiso

prendean vita i miei spirti; or n’à diletto

il Re celeste, i suoi alati corrieri,

et io son qui rimaso ignudo et cieco.

Sol un conforto a le mie pene aspetto:

ch’ ella che vede tutt’ i miei penseri

m’impetre grazia ch’ i’ possa esser seco.

E’ mi par d’or in ora udire il messo

che Madonna mi mande a sé chiamando;

così dentro et di for mi vo cangiando,

et sono in non molt’anni si dimesso

ch’ a pena riconosco omai me stesso:

tutto ’l viver usato ò messo in bando.

Sarei contento di sapere il quando,

ma pur devrebbe il tempo esser da presso.

O felice quel di che del terreno

carcere uscendo, lasci rotta et sparta

questa mia grave et fraie et mortal gonna

et da si folte tenebre mi parta,

volando tanto su nel bel sereno

ch’ i’ veggia il mio Signore et la mia donna!

From the most lovely eyes and brightest face

that ever shone, from the
most beautiful hair

that made the sun and gold
seem not as lovely
,

from
sweetest speech and from the sweetest smile,

and from the
hands and arms that could have conquered

without a move those who are most rebellious

to Love, from the most lovely slender feet,

and from the
body made in Paradise
,

my spirits took their life; now they delight

the heavenly King and his winged couriers

and I am left down here naked and blind.

I wait for just one comfort for my pain:

that
she who can see every thought
of mine

obtain for me
the grace to be with her.

Sometimes I seem to
hear the messenger

my lady sends to call me to herself,

so I’ve been changing inside and without,

and I’ve been
so reduced
in a few years

that now I
hardly recognize myself
!

The way I used to live I have all banished.

How happy I would be
to know just when
,

and yet the time could not be too far off.

Happy the day that I shall from my earthly

prison escape, leaving broken and scattered

this
heavy, frail garment
of my own life,

and I shall take my leave from sad thick shadows,

soaring through clearness of bright skies so high

that I may see
my Lord
and see my Lady.

Questo nostro caduco et fragil bene,

ch’ è vento et ombra et à nome beltate,

non fu giamai se non in questa etate

tutto in un corpo, et ciò fu per mie pene;

ché Natura non vol, né si convene,

per far ricco un, por li altri in povertate;

or verso in una ogni sua largitate

(perdonimi qual è bella o si tene).

Non fu simil bellezza antica o nova,

né sarà, credo; ma fu sì coverta

ch’ a pena se n’accorse il mondo errante.

Tosto disparve, onde ’l cangiar mi giova

la poca vista a me dal Cielo offerta

sol per piacer a le sue luci sante.

Dolci durezze et placide repulse

piene di casto amore et di pietate,

leggiadri sdegni che le mie infiammate

voglie tempraro (or me n’accorgo) e ’nsulse,

gentil parlar in cui chiaro refulse

con somma cortesia somma onestate,

fior di vertù, fontana di beltate,

ch’ ogni basso penser del cor m’avulse,

divino sguardo da far l’uom felice,

or fiero in affrenar la mente ardita

a quel che giustamente si disdice,

or presto a confortar mia fraie vita:

questo bel variar fu la radice

di mia salute, ch’ altramente era ita.

This
frail and perishable good
of ours

which is a wind and shadow known as beauty

never existed, save in our own day,

all in one body, all
to my own sorrow
,

for
Nature
does not wish, nor is it fitting,

to make one rich by making
others poor
;

now
all her riches
she poured into one

(forgive me if you’re beautiful, or think so).

Such beauty old or new
there never was

nor will there be, I think; it was so hidden

that hardly did the erring world take note.

It
quickly vanished
, and I am pleased to change

the brief sight
that was offered me by Heaven

for the sole pleasure of
her holy eyes
.

Sweet
sternness
and repulses calmly dealt,

filled with a love
that’s chaste and full of pity,

and charming indignation which my flaming

and
vain desires tempered
—now clear to me—

the gracious speech in which shone bright the highest

of courtesy with highest honesty,

flower of virtuousness
,
fountain of beauty
,

that
tore out
every low thought from my heart,

glance so divine it brings man happiness,

now fierce in reining in
a daring mind

from
that which is forbidden
, justly so,

now quick in comforting my fragile life:

this lovely variation
was the root

of my salvation—without it I was lost.

Spirto felice che si dolcemente

volgei quelli occhi più chiari che ’l sole

et formavi i sospiri et le parole

vive ch’ ancor mi sonan ne la mente:

già ti vid’ io d’onesto foco ardente

mover i pie’ fra l’erbe et le viole

(non come donna, ma com’ angel sole)

di quella ch’ or m’è più che mai presente,

la qual tu poi, tornando al tuo Fattore,

lasciasti in terra, et quel soave velo