Luis de Camoes Collected Poetical Works

by Luis de Camoes

  The strictest reckoning must before Him set:

  Then shall the Shepherd fill the fullest fold.

  Sad he that when his latest hour is told,

  Hath for his only payment alien sweat,

  Since for a money-price his soul he sold!

  CCXXXV.

  Como podes (o cego Peccador!)

  (A Sermon-sonnet).

  How canst (O Sinner blindly gone astray!)

  Prolong thine errors taking scanty tent;

  Knowing one Moment sees our life-tide spent,

  A span compared with Eternal Day?

  Deem not the Judge whose justice none gainsay

  Shall spare for sinners torturing punishment

  Nor lapse of Time, albe his steps are lent,

  Death-day of horriblest terror shall delay.

  Cease then to squander hours, days, months and years

  In seeking friendship with thy foeman, Ill;

  Friendship that greater crop of Evil bears.

  And, since of such deceits thou knowest thy fill,

  For Truth now fly these snares of hopes and fears

  And pray His pardon with thy humblest will

  CCXXXVI.

  Verdade, Amor, Razao, Mereamento,

  (A second Sermon-sonnet).

  Verity, Amor, Reason, Meritment

  Shall dower with strength and bravery any sprite,

  But Time, Mischances, Fate and Fortune’s might

  O’er this confused world hold regiment.

  Thousand Effects in brooding thoughts are pent,

  While Cause remains unknown to human sight:

  But know that more than Life and Death no wight

  Can learn by height of man’s Intendiment.

  Here shall wise Barons high-flown reasons give;

  Yet ’tis Experience ‘proves herself most apt:

  And thus much-seeing is the safest test.

  Here things may happen wherein none believe:

  And things believed are that never hapt.

  But CHRIST’S belief is ever bestest best

  CCXXXVII.

  De Babel sobre os rios nos sentamos,

  (Second Babylonian Sonnet: Cf. Sonn. 194).

  On Babylon-waters sunk in woe sat we,

  From our douce Home-land ever banished

  With grounded eye and hands on face bespread,

  We wept and pining, Zion! remembered thee.

  Our Harps we hanged on the willow-tree,

  Harps that in other day rare musick shed:

  Other the days forsure and other dread; —

  Our Harps we quit to quit sad memory.

  They, who had carried off the Captive-throng,

  Bade us upraise a merry-hearted strain: ——

  “Sing ye (they say us) hymns of Zion-hill!”

  On such wrong-doing heaped they sorer Ill,

  When foes demanded with tyrannick wrong

  They sing and carol that would weep and ‘plain.

  CCXXXVIII.

  Sobre os rios do Reyno escuro, quando

  (Same subject. Cf. Redondilhas, I.).

  When, on the Rivers where the black Reign lies,

  Saddened by sorrows for our sins ordained,

  From banisht eyne hot tears in floods we rainied,

  And sighed we,’ Holy Zion! for thee our sighs:

  They who our souls infested tyrant-wise,

  And, aye in error, us their thralls enchained;

  Vainly our psalms and songs to order deigned,

  When all were silent in our miseries.

  Upstood we saying:—” Howso chaunt our lay,

  Canticles grateful to a God benign,

  When thus His foemen we perforce obey?”

  But now, sole Holy Lord! ’tis my design,

  Leaving of vile extremes the all-vicious way,

  Henceforth to chaunt the Chaunts of Love Divine.

  CCXXXIX.

  Em Babylonia sobre os rios, quando

  (Same subject).

  When by the Rivers Babylon doth rail,

  Thou Holy Zion! we remembered thee,

  There sat we pine-full pains of Thought to dree

  And ‘parted happiness (hapless!) to bewail.

  Leaving the Harps that here of musick fail

  Our hands up-hanged them on strange willow-tree

  When of the songs we sang (Thy psalmody)

  Insisting foemen fain would hear the tale.

  This wise spake we the squadded hostile throngs: —

  “How can we sing, in homeless land astray,

  Our songs to Him, His sacred holy songs?”

  If I forgot thee best and only stay,

  (My single solace here in sorest wrongs)

  Oblivioni detur dextra mea.

  CCXL.

  Aponta e bella Aurora, Luz primeira,

  (Immaculate Conception, “quasi Aurora consurgens”).

  Breatheth the fair Aurora, primal Sheen

  That brought high tidings of that clearest Day:

  Busk ye and boun ye, Hearts! in glad array

  And welcome Her, Life’s Messenger ye ween.

  For our Redemption born is a Go-between

  Thy joy, O Heavenly Kingdom! haste display;

  Soon shalt thou hallow earth with heavenly sway,

  Soon shall from Heaven our fete by Thee be seen.

  Marvelleth Nature such pure work to sense;

  Shudder with fear confused the Realms infernal,

  Seeing Her born exempt fro’ Sin’s offence.

  ’Twas general Law that ruled thro’ Time’s Eternal:

  But He, the Lord of Law, pure Excellence,

  For Sanctuary guarded thee, Maternal.

  CCXLI.

  Porque a Terra no Ceo se agasalhasse,

  (The Incarnation. Cf. Sonn. 299).

  That Earth in Heaven mote asylum find

  God for a Heaven on Earth asylum fand:

  There not containing, here a place He plann’d,

  For He more largeness There from Here design’d.

  That by the Godhead rise to God mankind

  For men the Godhead deigned to be enmann’d:

  So lowered His height divine to human stand

  That mote the human grow to be divine’d.

  Look what gave He and what we gave in lieu:

  Ne’er fade such blessingfro’ man’s heart memorious:

  He gave us boon of life; His life we slew.

  He changed for pains of sin His reign all-glorious:

  He dealt us Triumphs which to Him were due: —

  Love was the Doer of such Deed victorious.

  CCXLII.

  Que estila a Arvore sacra? Hum licor santo.

  (The Crucifixion: an Amoebaean).

  What drips the Holy Tree?— “A Saintly tear.”

  For whom?— “For all who be of human strain.”

  What use hath it?—”’Tis medicine sovereign.”

  Wherefore?—” For worldly sins and weeping drear.”

  How may it work?— “To Luzbel mighty fear.”

  Why so?—” Because his apple bred such bane.”

  What bane?—” With single snare he saw us slain.”

  Hath it such power?— “Such power right clear we speer.”

  Who goes up-Cross?—” He that from Heaven came down.” — [invade.”

  Came down and why?—” That Man high Heaven

  What then of Earth would He?—” In Heaven to ‘throne.”

  Leads there a ladder? “Yea, securely stay’d.”

  Who obliged Him?—” Victorious Love alone.”

  What loved this Maker thus?—” The thing He made.”

  CCXLIII.

  Oh! Arma unicamente so triunfante,

  (Of Dom Sebastiam’s Banner? Cf. Sonn. 351).

  Oh one and only Arm, victorious Vaunt,

  And single Valvarte of the lives of men,

  Whereby our losses gained purest gain,

  Losses that joy fed Tartarus�
� horrid haunt!

  Follow the Church’s Banner militant,

  Which to such holy victories can attain,

  For hosts of spirits, weaned from errors vain,

  Here overwander Ponent, there Levant.

  O Tree Sublime, with marquetry engrail’d

  Of white and cramoisie and patine’d gold,

  With richest rubin crusted and amaill’d

  And deckt with Trophies of a worth untold!

  Death to Life dealt in Thee our eyne beheld,

  That Life-in-Death we might thro’ Thee behold.

  CCXLIV.

  A os homees hum so Homem pos espanto,

  (Sara Joam Baptista; venit in testimonium).

  One Man man’s nature with high marvel prankt,

  Prankt with such marvel for humanity,

  Mortal as man yet Angel-pure was He,

  For-that with saintly souls ere born He rankt.

  He was a Prophet when in womb enflankt;

  Amid the highmost high was his degree,

  Who (without seeing) the Great Light could see,

  Having for Tromp the Logos Sacrosanct.

  He was that Voice, whose loud canorous call

  Rang through the concave of the resonant sphere;

  ’Twas his the Sinless Body to baptise;

  His Ear the Father’s loving Voice could hear;

  He to the subtle question, mystical,

  Gave gentling answer in sincerest guise.

  CCXLV.

  Vos so podeys, sagrado Evangelista,

  (To the discipulus quem diligebat, &c.).

  You only, consecrate Evangelist!

  Angel of love-brent Seraph-origin;

  And in all kenning to the Cherubs kin,

  Could be of learnedest Love the Annalist.

  Divine and Kingly Erne! whose glances wist

  One Who was endless and did ne’er begin;

  Of Jacob best beloved Benjamin,

  Prower than Joseph in the champion’s list.

  Apostle-envoy, Prophet, Patriarch;

  Who from the Prince of Heaven most favour won

  And, on His bosom sleeping, most could sight.

  You whom the Godhead marked with brother-mark

  You of the perfect Mother chosen Son,

  Enjoy the clearest day in flesh and sprite!

  CCXLVI.

  Como louvarey eu, Serafim santo,

  (St. Francis of Assisi).

  How shall I, holy Seraph! hymn the praise

  Of such humility, such penitence?

  Chastity, Povert, Patience so immense,

  In these mine artless, unadorned lays?

  Theme which the Muses’ very choir affrays,

  Dumbing most eloquent grandiloquence.

  O Species dight by Holy Providence

  Who Self for weal so great in you displays.

  You, of the Saintly Brethren rarest mine,

  Sent thousand thousand Souls to heavenly goal

  From a lost world you healed sound and whole;

  You stole not only with your learned line

  The wills of mortals, but the Will Divine,

  When His five Rubies from His Wounds you stole.

  CCXLVII.

  Ditosas Almas, que ambas juntamente

  (Epitaph on husband and wife.)

  Ye happy Spirits! who at once in twain

  Flew to the sky of Love, the Venus-sky,

  Where Goods enjoyed here with joys that fly,

  Enjoy ye now with joys that e’er remain.

  That so contented state ye held so fain,

  Whose brief endurance was its sole annoy,

  Now you have changed for more joyous joy,

  Whose bliss aye waxing ne’er shall wan nor wane.

  Sad he that here must live his life begirt

  By lover-fineness, by Love’s agonies

  Whose growth of glory groweth greater grief!

  Sad! for my sufferings ne’er my pains appease;

  And Love has dealt me, for a sorer hurt,

  A life so large for Evil so unlief.

  CCXLVIII.

  Contente vivi ja, vendome isento

  (Written for a friend?).

  Content I lived erst, when seeing me free

  From Ills I saw bewailed by their prey:

  They clepe him Love, I clepe him other way

  Discord, Unreason, Warfare, Misery.

  The name bewitched every Thought of me,

  Who by such name could fail to fare astray?

  Now am I such, I dread to see the day

  When naught of suffering I am doomed to see.

  With long despairing and a longing sprite

  He pays the sorrows I for him must brook,

  And e’en mine Evils ill his heart can rest.

  Then, on so many Ills I still must sight

  (To deal me thousand more) an angel look,

  And not to heal them an enhardened breast.

  CCXLIX.

  Deixa Apolo o correr tao apressado,

  (Application unknown).

  Forego, Apollo, thy so hasty course;

  Chase not the Nymph whose pride is sans Compare:

  Leads thee not Love, thy leader is a snare

  Which brings with shadowed weal woes doubly worse.

  And granted Love it were, ‘twere love by force;

  And if ’tis forced ‘twill misfortune bear,

  Then spare a semblance more than mortal fair,

  Nor see a treen shape its charms encorse.

  Nill thou to forfeit for one vain ‘Content

  The sight that maketh all thy life contented:

  In thine own favour moderate thine Intent:

  Less evil ’tis, with her to sight presented,

  To dree her coyness and thy pains lament,

  Than feel the loss of her for aye absented.

  CCL.

  Nas Cidades, nos bosques, nas florestas,

  (To Our Lady of the Martyrs, at Punhete?).

  In bosque and forest, in the mart and meet,

  In vales, on wooded mountain-range thy praise

  Shepherds shall ever sing with tuneful lays,

  Thro’ coolth of morning, through the noontide-heat.

  And in this Temple, where thou dost repeat

  The boons thou dealest in thy blessed ways,

  With Psalm and Hymn and floral Wreaths thy Days

  Thy Holy Days mankind ne’er fail to greet!

  These offer hands, those feet before thy Fane;

  Those on thine altars hang a votive store

  Of deep-sea monster and the prison chain.

  But I my cares, my snares, my ban, my bane,

  (Horrider monsters) and a myriad more,

  Bring thee for gifts wi’ Longings longed in vain.

  CCLI.

  Vi queixosos de Amor mil namorados,

  (Petrarch: femmina e cosa mobil. Part I. Sonn. 131).

  I saw a thousand lovers Love betwyte,

  None saw I ever give dear Love his due:

  And whoso loudest loves at Love to shrew

  I see the latest fro’ his cares take flight:

  If an Love’s dolours do you such despite

  Why thus Love’s dolours do you seek and sue?

  And, if Love’s dolours you as favours view,

  Why are they dolours by you lovers hight?

  Think not to find of joyaunce smallest boon

  In Love, for sadness is his life and law;

  In smiling Fortune when her Smiles you see.

  In Him and Her I fand the self-same Moon,

  A Moon whose constancy the world ne’er saw

  Save the consistentest inconstancy.

  CCLII.

  Se lagrimas choradas de verdade

  (Cf. Eclogue V. 10).

  If tears in torrents and in truth beshed

  Could soften marble howso dour and dure,

  Why should not mine begot of Love so pure

  Quicken a bosom to compassion dead?r />
  For you my freedom, Dame! I forfeited,

  Nor of my proper life I live secure:

  Break of your cruel will the castled mure;

  Nor let your rigour to extremes be sped.

  To prize despisal make, in fine, a fine:

  None call you Cruel, name to her well due

  Who the fon sigh-full lover flouts to shame.

  Teach, then, your stony breast some ruth to rue

  In what regards you; ’tis no right of mine:

  For I adventure Life — you’venture name.

  CCLIII.

  Ja me fundey en vaos contentamentos

  (Autobiographic).

  Erst upon vain Contents I based my mind

  When lived I wholly snared by the snare

  Of one phantastick Good, of single Care

  Cared for by nothing save by Thought struck blind.

  Through days and hours and moments I repine’d

  This load of guiling Love’s sore weight to bear,

  For I held only him as Fortune’s heir

  Who for Love only oftest drank the Wind.

  But now that true account I come to know,

  I am wholly undeceived of his deceit;

  For Time gives all things, Time shall all discoure.

  Least shall the fullest Love his brim o’erflow;

  His joys are richest (this I ne’er did weet)

  Whoso of Love-wealth lives the poorest poor.

  CCLIV.

  Em huma lapa, toda tenebrosa,

  (A Scherzo: written for a friend?).

  Deep in a cavern gloomed with gathered night,

  Where beat the billows raging wild and wood,

  With hand supporting cheek (as saw I) stood

  A Nymph of gentlest mien in care-full plight:

  As black in mourning as in beauty bright,

  Her eyne distilled seed o’pearl in flood;

  And briny ocean stayed his boisterous mood

  A thing so sightly and so woe to sight

  At whiles she viewed the horrid steepy Head

  With her soft eyne, whose glance of sweetest lure

  Sufficed his stony core with care to melt.

  And in her angel-voice at length she said: —

  “Ah me, how oft they most lack Aventure

  To whom Dame Nature most of merit dealt.”

  CCLV.

  Se em mim (b Alma) vive maes lembranca

  (Sufistical).

  If in me other memory live, O Sprite!

  Of aught beyond my boast of lo’ing you,

  Lost be the joys I ‘joy when viewing you

  And lose I even Hope to see your sight.

  Be seen in me so coy and rustick wight

  That undeserves to boast of knowing you;

  May the more good I would be doing you

  Only offend you if I change my plight.

  I stand confirmed and this fact maintain;

  By your most cruel will my love be weigh’d;

  On me your harshness prove its hard disdain.