Luis de Camoes Collected Poetical Works
Page 15
Like one possest I hurried from afar
opening mine arms to clasp the life and sprite
of this my body, and hot kisses rain
upon her cheeks, her locks, her glorious eyne.
“‘ Ah! how it irks to tell my sad disgrace! 56
thinking my lover in these arms to hold,
mine arms a rugged Mountain did embrace,
yclad with bramble bush, a horrid wold:
Before this rock, upstanding face to face,
which for that Angel front I did enfold,
no more was I a Man, no! lorn and lone
a rock, a stone, I stood before a stone.
“‘Oh Nymph! the loveliest born that bare the Main, 57
alb’eit my presence ne’er by thee was sought,
how could my poor delusion cause thee pain?
Why not be mountain, cloud, rock, vision, nought?
Raging I wandered forth well-nigh insane
for yearning grief with foul dishonour fraught,
to seek another world, where none could see
my trickling tears, and scoff at them and me.
“‘Meanwhile my brethren, who the conquest lost, 58
crusht in extremest conquer’d mis’ery pined;
whom, for more surety, that vain-glorious host
of upstart Gods ‘neath various Mounts consigned:
And, as Immortals scoff at mortal boast,
I, to my sorrows in no wise resigned,
felt Fate, mine awful foe, begin to shape
a dreadful vengeance for my daring rape.
““ My flesh slow hardens into solid earth, 59
to rocks and horrid crags enstone my bones;
these limbs thou seest and this mighty girth,
extend where desert Ocean raves and moans:
In fine, the giant-stature of my birth
to this far Headland sprent with rocks and stones
the Gods debased; and doubling all my woes,
round me white, winsome, watery Thetis flows.’
“Thus parlied he; and with appalling cry, 60
from out our sight the gruesome Monster died;
the black cloud melted, and arose on high
sonorous thunders rolled by the tide.
To th’ Angel-choirs with hands upraised, I —
invisible Controuls so long our guide, —
prayed God in pity would those Ills withhold,
by Adamastor for our Race foretold.
“Now Pyroeis and Phlegon ‘gan appear 61
with th’ other pair that hale the radiant wain,
when the tall heights of Table Mount we spere,
which from the mighty Giant form hath tane:
Standing along now easting shores we steer,
and cleave the waters of the Levant main,
the coast-line hugging with a northing Prow,
and sight a second landfall o’er the bow.
“The native owners of this other land, 62
the burnisht livery of AEthiops wore,
yet was their bearing more humane and bland,
than those who so mistreated us before.
With dance and joyous feasts, a merry band
approacht us tripping on the sandy shore,
bringing their Women and fat herds that grace
the pastures, gentle kine of high-bred race.
“The bronzed Women, scorcht by burning clime, 63
astraddle rode the slow-paced gentle Steer,
beasts which their owners hold of beeves the prime,
better than any of the herds they rear:
Pastoral canticles, or prose, or rhyme,
concerted in their mother-tongue we hear;
and to the rustick reed sweet tunes they teach,
as Tit’yrus chaunted ‘neath his spreading beech.
“These, who seemed glad to see the guest abide 64
amid them, greeted us with friendly mood,
and many a fatted fowl and sheep supplied,
their goods exchanging for the things deemed good:
But though my comrades tried, they vainly tried,
for not a word in fine was understood
that of our search a signal might convey: —
Anchor I weighed, and I sailed away.
“Now here in mighty gyre our flight had flown 65
round Blackmoor Africk shore; and now regained
our Prores the torrid heat of Middle Zone,
while Pole Antarctick far in rear remained:
We left astern an Islet first made known
by the first Squadron whose long toils attained
the Cape of Tempests; and, that Islet found,
ended her voyage at its bourne and bound.
“Thence drave we, cutting for a length of days, — 66
where storms and sadd’ening calms alternate range, —
undreamed Oceans and unpathed ways,
our sole conductor Hope in toils so strange:
Long time we struggled with the sea’s wild maze,
till, as its general Law is changeless Change,
we met a current with such speed that sped,
against the flow ’twas hard to forge ahead.
“Of this prevailing flood the puissant force, 67
which to the southward our Armada hove,
such set opposed to our northing course,
the winds to waft us onwards vainly strove:
Till Notus fashed to find us fare the worse,
(it seems) in struggle with the drift that drove,
enforced his blasts, and with such choler blew
maugre the mighty current on we drew.
“Reduced Sol that famed and sacred Day, 68
wherein three Kings in Orient region crown’d,
a King came seeking who belittled lay,
a King in whom three Kings in One are bound:
That morn to other hythe we made our way
finding the peoples that before we found,
by a broad River, and we gave it name
from the high hol’iday when to port we came.
“Sweet food we barter’d from their scanty store, 69
sweet water from their stream; but natheless here
gained we no tidings of that Indian shore,
from men to us that almost dumblings were.
See now, O King! what distant regions o’er
of Earth we wandered, peoples rude and fere,
nor news nor signal had our labours earned
of the fair East for which our spirits yearned.
“Imagine, prithee, what a piteous state 70
must have been ours when all save life was gone,
by hunger broken and the storm’s wild hate,
and curst by novel climes and seas unknown:
Our hearts despaired of Hope deferred so late,
till dull Despair had marked us for her own;
toiling beneath those strange unnat’ural skies, —
our northern nature’s fellest enemies.
“And now decayed and damaged waxt our food, 71
sore damaging the wasted frame of man,
without one comfort, sans one gleam of good,
not e’en Hope’s flatt’ering tale nor Fancy vain:
Dost think that Sailor of the sturdiest mood,
or any Soldier save the Lusitan,
perchance, had loyalty so long preserved
both for his King and for the Chief he served?
“Dost think, the wretches had not mutinied 72
against the Head who with their mood had striven,
parforce becoming Pyrats, turned aside
from duty, by despair, want, hunger driven?
In very sooth these men were sorely tried,
since from their hearts ne moil ne toil hath driven
Portingall-excellence, abounding still
in leal valour and obedient will.
“Leaving in fine that Port of fa
ir sweet flood, 73
and, dight once more to cut the salty spray;
off from the coast-line for a spell we stood,
till deep blue water ‘neath our kelsons lay;
for frigid Notus, in his fainty mood,
was fain to drive us leewards to the Bay
made in that quarter by the crooked shore,
whence rich Sofala sendeth golden ore.
“This Sea-bight passing far, the nimble helm, 74
by men to saintly Nicholas assigned,
where roaring Ocean raves on Terra’s realm,
this and that vessel’s prore eftsoons inclined:
And now from hearts which hopes and fears o’erwhelm,
hearts in such faith t’ a fragile plank resigned,
as hope grew hopeless, esperance despair,
good sudden tidings banisht cark and care.
“And thus it happed, as near the shore we went 75
where beach and valley lay in clearest view,
a stream whose course in ocean there was spent,
showed of sails that came and went a few.
Good sooth, to greatest joyaunce all gave vent,
when first we sighted mariners who knew
mariner-practice; for we here were bound
to find some tidings which, indeed, we found.
“All AEthiopians are, yet ’twould appear, 76
they held communion with men better bred:
Some words of Arab parlance here we hear
imported sounds their mother-speech amid:
A flimsy wrapper of tree-wool they wear
a-twisted tight about each kinky head;
while other pieces dipt in azure tinct,
are round their middles and their shame precinct.
“In Arab language, which they little know, 77
but which Fernam Martins well comprehendeth,
ships great as ours, they say, scud to and fro
piercing the waters with the beak that rendeth:
But there where Phoebus leaps in air, they go
whither the broad’ening coast to south extendeth,
then from south sunwards; and a Land is there
of folk like us and like the daylight fair.
“Here was each bosom with rare gladness cheered 78
by the good people, and their news much more:
From all the signals in this stream appeared,
‘ Stream of Good Signals’ christened we the shore:
A marble column on this coast we reared
whereof, to mark such spots, a few we bore;
its name that lovely Angel-youth supplied
who did Thobias to Gabael guide.
“Of shells and oysters, and the weedy load, 79
the noisome offspring of the Main profound,
we cleansed our kelsons which the long sea-road
brought to careening clogged and immund:
Our blameless AEthiops, who not far abode,
with pleasing jocund proffers flockt around
supplying maintenance we mainly sought,
pure of all leasing, free from feigning thought.
“Yet from our esp’erance great, our hopes immense 80
bred by this seaboard, was not pure and true
the joy we joyed; nay, cruel recompense
dealt us Rhamnusia, sorrows’strange and new.
Thus smiling Heav’en mixt favours doth dispense;
in such condition dark and dure man drew
the breath of Life; and, while all Ills endure,
Good changeth often, Good is never sure.
“And ’twas that sickness of a sore disgust, 81
the worst I ever witness’d, came and stole
the lives of many; and far alien dust
buried for aye their bones in saddest dole.
Who but eye-witness e’er my words could trust?
of such disform and dreadful manner swole
the mouth and gums, that grew proud flesh in foyson
till gangrene seemed all the blood to poyson:
“Gangrene that carried foul and fulsome taint, 82
spreading infection through the neighbouring air:
No cunning Leach aboard our navy went,
much less a subtle Chirurgeon was there;
but some whose knowledge of the craft was faint
strove as they could the poisoned part to pare,
as though ‘twere dead; and here they did aright; —
all were Death’s victims who had caught the blight.
“At last in tangled brake and unknown ground, 83
our true companions lost for aye, we leave,
who ‘mid such weary ways, such dreary round,
such dread adventures aidance ever gave.
How easy for man’s bones a grave is found!
Earth’s any wrinkle, Ocean’s any wave,
whereso the long home be, abroad, at home,
for ev’ery Hero’s corse may lend a tomb.
“When from that Haven we resumed our way 84
while brighter hopes with darker hearts combine’d,
we oped Ocean where the down coast lay,
expecting surer signal e’er to find:
At last we rode in rude Mozambic Bay,
of whose vile leasing, and whose villain kind
thou must have knowledge; and the foul deceit
wherewith Mombasah would her guests defeat.
“Until safe anchored in thy harbour, rife 85
with all the gracious guest-rites that bestow
health on the living, on the dying life,
God in His pity pleased the way to show:
Here rest, here sweet repose from grief, toil, strife,
new Peace appeasing ev’ry want and woe
thou gavest us: Now, if hast heard me well
told is the tale thou badest me to tell.
“Judge then, O King! an over Earth e’er went 86
men who would ‘tempt such paths of risk and dread?
Dost deem AEneas, or e’en eloquent
Ulysses, fared so far this Earth to tread?
Did any dare to see the Sea’s extent
howe’er the Muse their Gestes hath sung or said,
as I by force of will and skill have seen
and still shall see; or e’en the eighth, I ween?
“This, who so deeply drank of Fount Aonian, 87
o’er whom contend in conquest peregrine
Rhodes, Ios, Smyrna, with the Colophonian
Athens and Argos and the Salamine:
And that, the lustre of the land Ausonian,
whose voice altis’onous and whose lyre divine
his native Mincius hearing, sinks to sleep,
while Tyber’s waves with pride and pleasure leap:
“Sing, laud and write they both in wild extremes 88
of these their Demigods, and prowess vaunt
on fabled Magians, Circes, Polyphemes,
and Sirens lulling with the sleepy chaunt:
Send them to plow with oar and sail the streams
of Cicons; on th’ oblivious lands descant
where slumb’erous Lotus-eaters dazed and died;
e’en be their Pilot whelmed in Ocean-tide:
“Storms let them loosen from the Bags of Wind, 89
create Calypsos captivate by love;
make Harpies’ touch contaminate all they find,
and in sad Hades make their Heroes rove;
however much, o’er much, they have refine’d
such fabled tales, which Poet’s fancy prove,
the simple naked truth my story telleth
all their grandiloquence of writ excelleth.”
Fast on our Captain’s facund lips depends 90
as drunk with wonder, all that soul-wrapt crowd;
until at length his travel-story ends;
his tale that told of noble deeds and proud.
The high-conceiv’ed intent th
e King commends
of Kings to not’able feats of warfare vow’d:
Their Lieges’ old and val’orous strain extols,
their loyal spirits and their noble souls.
Th’ admiring audience to recount are fain 91
each case, as each one best could understand:
None from the hardy Folk could turn their eyne
who by such long-drawn ways the waves had span’d.
Now, as the Delian youth turns round the rein
Lampetia’s brother held with feeble hand,
and in the Thetian arms way-weary falls;
the King hies sea-borne to his royal halls.
How pleasant sound the praise and well-won glory 92
of man’s own exploits as man hears them chime!
for noble travail, actions digne of story,
that dim or equal those of passed Time.
Envy of famous feats untransitory
hath ‘gendered thousand thousand deeds sublime:
The Brave who loves to tread in Valour’s ways
pants for the pleasure of his fellows’ praise.
Achilles’ glorious feats could not so ‘flame, 93
nor Alexander’s soul to fight inspired;
as he who sang in numbered verse his name;
such praise, such honour most his soul desired.
Nought but the trophies of Miltiades’ fame
could rouse Themistocles with envy fired;
who owned his highest joy, his best delight,
came from the voices which his feats recite.
Vasco da Gama striveth hard to prove 94
that these old travels in world-song resounding
merit not glory nor men’s hearts may move
like his sore travails Heav’en and Earth astounding.
Yes! but that Hero, whose esteem and love
crowned with praise, prize, honours, gifts abounding
the Lyre of Mantua, taught her Bard to chaunt
AEneas’ name, and Rome’s high glories vaunt.
Scipios and Caesars giveth Lusia-land, 95
gives Alexanders and Augusti gives;
but she withal may not the gifts command
whose want rears rough and ready working-lives:
Octavius, prest by Fortune’s heaviest hand,
with compt and learned verse her wrong survives.
Nor, certes, Fulvia shall this truth deny,
Glaphyra’s wit entrapt her Anthony.
Goes Caesar subjugating gen’eral France, 96
yet worked his arms to Science no offence;
this hand the Pen compelling, that the Lance
he vied with Cicero’s gift of eloquence:
What most doth Scipio’s name and fame enhance
is of the Com’edy deep experience:
What Homer wrote that Alexander read,
we know, whose roll ne’er left his couch’s head.
In fine, the nations own no Lord of Men 97