Luis de Camoes Collected Poetical Works
Page 163
And if we honour merit as were due,
Of constant love, of fay sincere I feel,
The fruitful harvest justly I await:
If aught offend thee which in me thou view
My life go wasted, ne’er itself renew
In such a fair demand,
Since Love so deals command;
And if or Fate or Fortune deign decree
That I be loved of thee,
Nothing of larger glory covet I;
And if not, for thy sake ‘twere life to die.
L’ENVOI.
Canzon! thou goest lost, but more his weal
Is lost who gives thee to the withering Wind;
For he hath feeling and for Ills doth feel
And naught of feeling for the lave can find
I weet we let the wretch no Leach can hear
Wail pangs of body and weep pains of mind;
Therefore I bid thee go and where thou go
Tell all my torments and Love’s guerdon — woe.
CANZON XX.
Bern aventurado aquelle, que ausente
(Same subject as No. 16; in “Rimas Provenzales”).
I.
Happy the mortal who retired lives
From crowding business, noise and tumult-press,
Sees from afar loss, insult and distress
Th’ unworthy world to silly worldling gives:
His cares encurbeth he with Reason’s rein,
An alien
From all the cares
That breeds and bears
Our human life
Which, ever rife
In poisonous pleasures of Man’s covetize,
Kindles the brands whereon he burning lies.
II.
He batteneth not on hopes of Fortune’s hoards,
Raised where the falsest Hope unduly elates;
Vile seem to him and low the intimates
Of Kings, of Princes and of noble Lords;
As wealth abounding ever rateth he
His Poverty,
The foe that foils
All toils and moils
Ne’er consenting
Discontenting;
And that he see his heart in life secure
Careless and fearless, wills he to be poor.
III.
He spurns with valorous soul and gallant breast
Ambitious flights that daze the Spirit’s gaze;
He ‘sdeigneth thoughts which vainly rise and raise
To vainest phantasies by care opprest;
These things, as perverse ills, afar he driveth,
And so liveth
For-that Life
Tom by strife,
Worn by caring,
Weary, wearing,
And blown by frolick Fortune’s every breath
Is Life unlively; nay, ’tis Life-in-Death.
IV.
Ne’er breaketh gentle sleep the sovenance
Importunate of weal and coming woe;
Secure he seeth changes come and go,
Free from all fear, exempt from change and chance;
And, albe Life appear to him so brief,
He lives unlief
Of longer lease;
His joys ne’er cease
For ever deeming
Wealth is teeming:
For Life that raceth goods of Life to chase
Finds itself wasted, lacking growth of grace.,
V.
He fareth not with friends that hide the fone,
He ‘fronteth direst perils prudent-wise,
A constant spirit, in his tranquil guise,
He joys with loyal hearts secure to wone;
And, when the raging of the tyrant Main
Warreth insane,
Fires accending
And pretending,
With strange swelling
Wrath indwelling,
To wreck Earth’s dearest peace in general jar,
He rests and laughs at th’ elemental war.
VI.
He hears no martial trompet’s fearful roar
Affrighting forceful hearts with harshest strain
He feareth not the soldiery cruel vain
With swords which ever thirst for human gore;
Nor yet the bullets from the spingards springing
Ringing, pinging,
As a-sky
Thick they fly;
But descending,
Unseen wending,
Amid the many come they one to wound,
One in such cases e’er fon-careless found.
VII.
And though his freeborn Thought intelligent
‘Prison his sight and rule his chosen law;
And though another’s Will his own adaw,
Withal enjoyeth surest Liberty
His Thought aye free, That electeth
What subjecteth;
For the painful
Snarings baneful
The which from private prejudice proceed
To none the lordship of man’s self concede.
VIII.
Now he upraiseth high from lowly earth
Experienced Thought to things beyond the sky,.
And blaming life and self he fain would die
To win such treasure of exceeding worth:
Now with soft “Ahs” he cleaveth through the cloud;
Groaning loud,
Death addressing
“Thou hard blessing!
Come thou nigh me
Nor deny me
A blow so fatal that my Life would reave
And thee the truest Life I would believe.”
CANZON XXI.
Porque vossa belleza a si se venfa,
(To a fair friend recovering health: imperfect).
I.
For-that your loveliness self-conquest see
You have such marvels shown,
That be you fairer grown
With the past rigours of this malady;
Thus in her season the pale hueless Rose
Regreens her hue and with more lustre glows;
Thus, past the horrid hours of wintry gloom,
Prime flaunts his flowers dight with brighter bloom;
Thus in due course the sad eclipsed Sun
Emergeth clearer, radiant race to run.
II.
Now Sol to see your welfare shows his gladness,
And, erst in sables clad,
Robeth him gay and glad
While mobled Night displayeth less of sadness;
The withered fields you force to flower, Senhora!
Whenas her sorrow flowerless mourneth Flora;
The very elements joy fed fain and lief
That whilom felt and sore bewailed your grief;
The shiest Bird sings happy madrigal;
All self engladden, or you gladden all.
III.
Gladden you, Earth and Heaven! these lamping eyes
Lit wi’ so lovely light
Which, by their marvel-might,
Give Earth her blossoms and give Stars to skies:
To Tagus, better blest by Aventure,
Give you that beauty’s all-fair portraiture,
Which bin a treasure of more wealth untold
Than richest sand-beds rolling finest gold:
Ladye! we see you all enrich and deem
Yourself the richest, in all wealth extreme.
IV.
Seeing your welfare Love himself makes fete
And Health, in honest pride,
Showeth a fairer side,
Donning your wealth of charms that all amate:
The Graces, garlanded with thousand flowers,
Crown you for only goddess of Amours,
And give you all your April gave the Three;
For to the Graces primest Spring you be;
And, sith you gladden all with health renew’d,
All waxeth gladsome nor may change intrude.
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ODES
ODE I.
Detent hum pouco, Musa, o largo pranto
(Endymion and the Moon: himself and his lover).
I.
Awhile the large complaining, Muse! withhold
Love opeth in thy breast;
Nay, robe in raiment gay with gleamy gold,
And be our vows addrest
To Her, whose gracious hest
Wills all the world illume,
Lighting to bright of day the nightly gloom!
II.
O Delia! thou who, billowy clouds despite,
Shedding thy silver ray
Such wise dost influence the obscure of night
Love may not find his way,
Nor e’en in soul pourtray
Love’s love to thy divine
Favour, that gars me rage and senses tyne!
III.
Thou, who with Stars of lightest, brightest sheen
Dost coronal and crown
Thy lovely cheeks, thy candid front serene;
And deckest field and down
With roses by thee sown,
With daisy, dainty birth
Thy heavenly humour shed o’er vernal Earth!
IV.
Then, Delia! seest thou from thy heavenly sphere
Chastities theft-o’ertane,
Sighs, singulfs, “Ahs,” and voice of song and tear
And wills of similar strain,
These yearning aye in vain,
Those, mourning cruelties,
Offer their own dear lives for sacrifice.
V.
Erst came Endymion to these wooded Mounts,
Their high-hung welkin eyeing,
The while thy name, with eyne convert to founts,
Invoked he vainly crying,
Aye sueing, praying, sighing,
Thy Beauty grant him grace,
Yet not one hour he fand of ruth a trace.
VI.
For thee of snowy flock a Shepherd grown,
In forests solitaire,
And, ‘companied by Thought and Thought alone,
He speaks die herds that fare
To all true Love con trayr,
But not (as thou art) dure;
Where he lamenteth sore Misaventure.
VII.
For thee conserveth Ilium’s fountful site
Gardens of cooly gloom;
For thee keep Pelion and far Erymanth-height
Roses of purpling bloom;
And gums of choicest fume,
Of this our Orient, —
Conserveth Happy Araby right content.
VIII.
Of whatso panther, tygre, leopart
The bowels ‘ured to stowre
But sense the terrors of thy grided dart,
When the tor’s highest tower,
Remote and strange and dour,
Thou climbst in light-foot way
So ferly fair that Love by love canst slay?
IX.
Thine ear did aye the chaste young Mother’s crying
Thou bright Lucina! hear,
Her force enforcing and new sprite supplying;
But to that Lover drear
Ne’er wouldst thou lend an ear,
Nor for one moment deign
To see him suffering less of pain and bane.
X.
Ah! fly me not. Ah! haste thee not to hide
From Lover naught shall daunt!
Look thee how sighs and murmurs Ocean-tide,
How Atlas old and gaunt
His shoulders arrogant
Compassionate doth incline,
Hearing these dolent, feeble accents mine.
XI.
Most tristful me! my plaint what profiteth
When my complaints I throw
To one whose lifted hand would do my death
As of some cruel foe?
But where leads Fate I go,
Fate so my weird fulfils,
She only teaches this, this only wills.
XII.
O long the syne since Heaven unsnared my snare!
Yet with’more obstinate gree
And madder daring every day I dare;
Despite a will born free
Folly I cannot flee;
For this wherein I wend me
With snare of Esperance still doth hold and hend me.
XIII.
O how far better for my fate had been
A sleep thro’ Night eterne
For these sad eyne, which so had never seen
The cause of dule so dearne;
To fly (ere came such turn)
One more than erst unkind,
Fiercer than She-bear, fleeter than the Hind.
XIV.
Ay me, who ever burn in living lowe
Wi’ thousand deaths by side;
And when I die the most I live the mo’e!
Thus did for me decide
Ill-doom wherein I ‘bide;
For, when it wills me dead,
To longer Life it dooms me, Death instead.
XV.
Secret-full Night, sweet friend I lief obey!
These Roses (sith one hour
My plaint thou heardest) on thy fane I lay;
With this fresh amaranth-flower,
Still trickling dewy shower
And wet with rory tear,
Shed by the jealous Titan’s fair white Fere.
ODE II.
Taó suave, tad fresca; e taó fermosa,
(A Canzon).
I.
So suave, so fresh, so fair ne’er yet uprose
In skies of Orient light
Aurora deigning deal us summery Spring,
And painting flowers in gracious wonted guise,
As came that false and feral Fairest when
In me she breathed such Thought of lively care,
That I mine I unknow.
II.
Ne pudick Daisy ne fresh opening Rose
On plain showed face so bright,
When radiant Sol is pent in Taurus’ ring,
Amelling bowers with all-differing dyes,
As doth this Flower with down-cast eyne when fain
She would inure me sorrow’s weight to bear,
A throe e’en now I trow.
III.
Fair fleet-foot Nymph, whose anger glows and grows,
Ne’er followed in her flight
Satyr, but what his softing heart could bring
Her breast to pity and Love’s gentle guise,
However fast she fled and spumed this pain,
This bane, where showéd Love a bliss so fair
Begun with prosperous show.
IV.
In fine, ne’er yet fair Thing so rigorous
Nature with Being dight,
Her form, her hard condition rivalling;
Which doth my life-long agonies despise;
And, with sweet gesture rife in soft disdain,
Raised sense and sent and life to height so rare
That thanks for throes I owe.
V.
Twas my fond Hope to hymn, in verse or prose,
That vision seen in sprite
Twixt douce duresse and mercy balancing,
Delices of beauty’s first-fruits, rarest prize;
But when my song would soar with heavenly strain,
My wits were blent and genius by the glare,
The great and glorious glow.
VI.
In that high purity never shall disclose
To worlds its veiléd light;
In those angelic eyne o’ermastering
My Life, the lords that rule my destinies;
And, in those locks that on soft breezes deign
Softly to wave and all my Life ensnare,
I joy the while I am woe.
VII.
Parlous suspicions and repining throes
Wherewith would Love requite
His low
desarts who forth fares wandering;
Dolours and dreads, the spirit’s tormentize,
Fierce cruel coyness which fro’ me hath tane
The only remnant of my wonted fare
To all I lout me low.
L’ENVOI.
Thralled me whole-heart Love to eyne of her
Wherein my God I know.
ODE III.
Se de meu pensamento
(After Garcilasso).
I.
If an my Thought could show
Some cause with Joyaunce mote my soul assain,
As now of woe and throe
I have full right to ‘plain,
Thou couldst console me, Lyre of saddest strain!
II.
And my voice weary grown,
That rang in other days so blythe, so pure,
Never such change had known,
So sad Misaventure,
That turned it hoarse and heavy, dour and dure.
III.
Were I as wont to be,
Your praise had soared to the highmost height;
You, you my Hierarchy!
Had heard my Love’s delight,
Now World-example of my painful plight.
IV.
Glad woes and liefest grief,
Days, hours and moments with contentment fraught,
To Memory ah! how lief
Ye wone in soul inwrought
Where now reign torments baning every thought!
V.
Alas for fleeting joy!
Alas for gloire defaced and displace’d!
Alas fere ills so coy!
What Life ye gar me taste!
How weighed by love’s dull weight! what wilful waste!
VI.
How could not Death abate
This Life? How can this Life still, still endure?
How opes not Death the gate
To such misaventure
Which Time with all his care can never cure?
VII.
But, that I bear my bale,
Subjecting Love more weightily would oppress:
For e’en to tell the tale,
Force faileth my distress
And all things weak me, all is weariness.
VIII.
Weal was indeed thy weird
Thou who prevailedest with sounding lyre
Orpheus! till thou wast heard
By Rhadamanth the dire
And sawst with mortal eyne thy dear Desire!
IX.
The ghosts of Hades-gloom
Thy voice of musick had the power to please;
The three dark Maids of Doom,
Man’s ruthless enemies,
Saw themselves forced their furies to appease.
X.
Remained in wonderment
All Stygia’s empery to hear thy lays;
And with repose content
Fro’ woe that seldom stays,
Sisyphus ceased his huge round stone to upraise.
XI.
Changed his ordered hest