At feet of both their favours am reclined.
Beauty and Duty in my soul keep strife,
At question if the heart such course can take
And ‘twixt two ladies hold its love complete.
The font of gentle speech yields answer meet,
That Beauty may be loved for gladness’ sake,
And Duty in the lofty ends of life.
SESTINA: OF THE LADY PIETRA DEGLI SCROVIGNI
To the dim light and the large circle of shade
I have clomb, and to the whitening of the hills
There where we see no colour in the grass.
Natheless my longing loses not its green,
It has so taken root in the hard stone 5
Which talks and hears as though it were a lady.
Utterly frozen is this youthful lady
Even as the snow that lies within the shade:
For she is no more moved than is a stone
By the sweet season which makes warm the hills 10
And alters them afresh from white to green,
Covering their sides again with flowers and grass.
When on her hair she sets a crown of grass
The thought has no more room for other lady;
Because she weaves the yellow with the green 15
So well that Love sits down there in the shade, -
Love who has shut me in among low hills
Faster than between walls of granite-stone.
She is more bright than is a precious stone;
The wound she gives may not be heal’d with grass: 20
I therefore have fled far o’er plains and hills
For refuge from so dangerous a lady;
But from her sunshine nothing can give shade, -
Not any hill, nor wall, nor summer-green.
A while ago, I saw her dress’d in green, - 25
So fair, she might have waken’d in a stone
This love which I do feel even for her shade;
And therefore, as one woos a graceful lady,
I wooed her in a field that was all grass
Girdled about with very lofty hills. 30
Yet shall the streams turn back and climb the hills
Before Love’s flame in this damp wood and green
Burn, as it burns within a youthful lady,
For my sake, who would sleep away in stone
My life, or feed like beasts upon the grass, 35
Only to see her garments cast a shade.
How dark soe’er the hills throw out their shade,
Under her summer-green the beautiful lady
Covers it, like a stone cover’d in grass.
I have translated this piece both on account of its great and peculiar beauty, and
also because it affords an example of a form of composition which I have met with
in no Italian writer before Dante’s time, though it is not uncommon among the
Provençal poets (see Dante, de Vulg. Eloq.). I have headed it with the name of a
Paduan lady to whom it is surmised by some to have been addressed during
Dante’s exile; but this must be looked upon as a rather doubtful conjecture. I have
adopted the name chiefly to mark it at once as not referring to Beatrice; and have
ventured for the same reason to give a like heading to the sonnet which follows it.)
SONNET: TO THE LADY PIETRA DEGLI SCROVIGNI
My curse be on the day when first I saw
The brightness in those treacherous eyes of thine,-
The hour when from my heart thou cam’st to draw
My soul away, that both might fail and pine —
My curse be on the skill that smooth’d each line 5
Of my vain songs, - the music and just law
Of art, by which it was my dear design
That the whole world should yield thee love and awe.
Yea, let me curse mine own obduracy,
Which firmly holds what doth itself confound - 10
To wit, thy fair perverted face of scorn:
For whose sake Love is oftentimes forsworn
So that men mock at him; but most at me
Who would hold fortune’s wheel and turn it round.
GUIDO CAVALCANTI
SONNET TO DANTE ALIGHIERI: HE INTERPRETS DANTE’S DREAM, RELATED IN THE FIRST SONNET OF THE VITA NUOVA
Unto my thinking, thou beheld’st all worth,
All joy, as much of good as man may know,
If thou wert in his power who here below
Is honour’s righteous lord throughout this earth.
Where evil dies, even there he has his birth, 5
Whose justice out of pity’s self doth grow.
Softly to sleeping persons he will go,
And, with no pain to them, their hearts draw forth.
Thy heart he took, as knowing well, alas!
That Death had claim’d thy lady for her prey: 10
In fear whereof, he fed her with thy heart.
But when he seem’d in sorrow to depart,
Sweet was thy dream; for by that sign, I say,
Surely the opposite shall come to pass.
SONNET: TO HIS LADY JOAN, OF FLORENCE
Flowers hast thou in thyself, and foliage,
And what is good, and what is glad to see;
The sun is not so bright as thy visage;
All is stark naught when one hath look’d on thee;
There is not such a beautiful personage
Anywhere on the green earth verily;
If one fear love, thy bearing sweet and sage
Comforteth him, and no more fear hath he.
Thy lady friends and maidens ministering
Are all, for love of thee, much to my taste:
And much I pray them that in everything
They honour thee even as thou meritest,
And have thee in their gentle harbouring:
Because among them all thou art the best.
SONNET: HE COMPARES ALL THINGS WITH HIS LADY, AND FINDS THEM WANTING
Beauty in woman; the high will’s decree;
Fair knighthood arm’d for manly exercise;
The pleasant song of birds; love’s soft replies;
The strength of rapid ships upon the sea;
The serene air when light begins to be; 5
The white snow, without wind that falls and lies;
Fields of all flower; the place where waters rise;
Silver and gold; azure in jewellery: -
Weigh’d against these, the sweet and quiet worth
Which my dear lady cherishes at heart 10
Might seem a little matter to be shown;
Being truly, over these, as much apart
As the whole heaven is greater than this earth.
All good to kindred natures cleaveth soon.
SONNET: A RAPTURE CONCERNING HIS LADY
Who is she coming, whom all gaze upon,
Who makes the air all tremulous with light,
And at whose side is Love himself? that none
Dare speak, but each man’s sighs are infinite.
Ah me! how she looks round from left to right, 5
Let Love discourse: I may not speak thereon.
Lady she seems of such high benison
As makes all others graceless in men’s sight.
The honour which is hers cannot be said;
To whom are subject all things virtuous, 10
While all things beauteous own her deity.
Ne’er was the mind of man so nobly led
Nor yet was such redemption granted us
That we should ever know her perfectly.
BALLATA: OF HIS LADY AMONG OTHER LADIES
With other women I beheld my love; -
Not that the rest were women to mine eyes,
Who only as her shadows seem’d to move.
I do not praise her more than with the truth,
Nor blame I these if it b
e rightly read.
But while I speak, a thought I may not soothe
Says to my senses: ‘Soon shall ye be dead,
If for my sake your tears ye will not shed.’
And then the eyes yield passage, at that thought,
To the heart’s weeping, which forgets her not.
SONNET: OF THE EYES OF A CERTAIN MANDETTA, OF THOULOUSE, WHICH RESEMBLE THOSE OF HIS LADY JOAN, OF FLORENCE
A certain youthful lady in Thoulouse,
Gentle and fair, of cheerful modesty,
Is in her eyes, with such exact degree,
Of likeness unto mine own lady, whose
I am, that through the heart she doth abuse
The soul to sweet desire. It goes from me
To her; yet, fearing, saith not who is she
That of a truth its essence thus subdues.
This lady looks on it with the sweet eyes
Whose glance did erst the wounds of Love anoint
Through its true lady’s eyes which are as they.
Then to the heart returns it, full of sighs,
Wounded to death by a sharp arrow’s point
Wherewith this lady speeds it on its way.
BALLATA: HE REVEALS, IN A DIALOGUE, HIS INCREASING LOVE FOR MANDETTA
Being in thought of love, I chanced to see
Two youthful damozels.
One sang: Our life inhales
All love continually.’
Their aspect was so utterly serene,
So courteous, of such quiet nobleness,
That I said to them: ‘Yours, I well may ween,
’Tis of all virtue to unlock the place.
Ah! damozels, do not account him base
Whom thus his wound subdues:
Since I was at Thoulouse,
My heart is dead in me.’
They turn’d their eyes upon me in so much
As to perceive how wounded was my heart;
While, of the spirits born of tears, one such
Had been begotten through the constant smart.
Then seeing me, abash’d, to turn apart,
One of them said, and laugh’d:
‘Love, look you, by his craft
Holds this man thoroughly.’
But with grave sweetness, after a brief while,
She who at first had laugh’d on me replied,
Saying: ‘This lady, who by Love’s great guile
Her countenance in thy heart has glorified,
Look’d thee so deep within the eyes,
Love sigh’d
And was awaken’d there.
If it seem ill to bear,
In him thy hope must be.’
The second piteous maiden, of all ruth,
Fashion’d for sport in Love’s own image, said:
‘This stroke, whereof thy heart bears trace in sooth,
From eyes of too much püissance was shed,
Whence in thy heart such brightness enterèd,
Thou may’st not look thereon.
Say, of those eyes that shone
Canst thou remember thee?’
Then said I, yielding answer therewithal
Unto this virgin’s difficult behest:
‘A lady of Thoulouse, whom Love doth call
Mandetta, sweetly kirtled and enlaced,
I do remember to my sore unrest.
Yea, by her eyes indeed
My life has been decreed
To death inevitably.’
Go, Ballad, to the city, even Thoulouse,
And softly entering the Daurade, look round
And softly call, that so there may be found
Some lady who for compleasaunce may choose
To show thee her who can my life confuse.
And if she yield thee way,
Lift thou thy voice and say:
‘For grace I come to thee.’
(The ancient church of the Daurade still exists at Thoulouse. It was so called from
the golden effect of the mosaics adorning it.)
DANTE ALIGHIERI TO GUIDO CAVALCANTI
SONNET: HE IMAGINES A PLEASANT VOYAGE FOR GUIDO, LAPO GIANNI, AND HIMSELF, WITH THEIR THREE LADIES
Guido, I wish that Lapo, thou, and I,
Could be by spells convey’d, as it were now,
Upon a barque, with all the winds that blow
Across all seas at our good will to hie
So no mischance nor temper of the sky
Should mar our course with spite or cruel slip;
But we, observing old companionship,
To be companions still should long thereby.
And Lady Joan, and Lady Beatrice,
And her the thirtieth on my roll, with us
Should our good wizard set, o’er seas to move
And not to talk of anything but love:
And they three ever to be well at ease
As we should be, I think, if this were thus.
GUIDO CAVALCANTI TO DANTE ALIGHIERI
SONNET: GUIDO ANSWERS THE FOREGOING SONNET, SPEAKING WITH SHAME OF HIS CHANGED LOVE
If I were still that man, worthy to love,
Of whom I have but the remembrance now,
Or if the lady bore another brow,
To hear this thing might bring me joy thereof.
But thou, who in Love’s proper court dost move, 5
Even there where hope is born of grace, - see how
My very soul within me is brought low:
For a swift archer, whom his feats approve,
Now bends the bow, which Love to him did yield,
In such mere sport against me, it would seem 10
As though he held his lordship for a jest.
Then hear the marvel which is sorriest: -
My sorely wounded soul forgiveth him,
Yet knows that in his act her strength is kill’d.
TO DANTE ALIGHIERI
SONNET: HE REPORTS, IN A FEIGNED VISION, THE SUCCESSFUL ISSUE OF LAPO GIANNI’S LOVE
Dante, a sigh that rose from the heart’s core
Assail’d me, while I slumber’d, suddenly;
So that I woke o’ the instant, fearing sore
Lest it came thither in Love’s company:
Till, turning, I beheld the servitor 5
Of lady Lagia: ‘Help me,’ so said he,
‘O help me, Pity.’ Though he said no more,
So much of Pity’s essence enter’d me,
That I was ware of Love, those shafts he wields
A-whetting, and preferr’d the mourner’s quest 10
To him, who straightway answer’d on this wise:
‘Go tell my servant that the lady yields,
And that I hold her now at his behest:
If he believe not, let him note her eyes.’
TO DANTE ALIGHIERI
SONNETHE MISTRUSTS THE LOVE OF LAPO GIANNI
I pray thee, Dante, shouldst thou meet with Love
In any place where Lapo then may be,
That there thou fail not to mark heedfully
If Love with lover’s name that man approve;
If to our Master’s will his lady move 5
Aright, and if himself show fealty:
For ofttimes, by ill custom, ye may see
This sort profess the semblance of true love.
Thou know’st that in the court where Love holds sway,
A law subsists, that no man who is vile 10
Can service yield to a lost woman there.
If suffering aught avail the sufferer,
Thou straightway shalt discern our lofty style,
Which needs the badge of honour must display.
SONNET: ON THE DETECTION OF A FALSE FRIEND
Love and the lady Lagia, Guido and I,
Unto a certain lord are bounden all,
Who has released us - know ye from whose thrall?
Yet I’ll not speak, but let the matter die:
Since now these three no more are held thereby, 5
That I myself was not more whimsical,
In him conceiving godship from on high.
Let Love be thank’d the first, who first discern’d
The truth; and that wise lady afterward, 10
Who in fit time took back her heart again;
And Guido next, from worship wholly turn’d;
And I, as he. But if ye have not heard,
I shall not tell how much I loved him then.
BALLATA: OF A CONTINUAL DEATH IN LOVE
Though thou, indeed, hast quite forgotten ruth,
Its steadfast truth my heart abandons not;
But still its thought yields service in good part
To that hard heart in thee.
Alas! who hears believes not I am so. 5
Yet who can know? of very surety, none.
From Love is won a spirit, in some wise,
Which dies perpetually:
And, when at length in that strange ecstasy
The heavy sigh will start, 10
There rains upon my heart
A love so pure and fine,
That I say: ‘Lady, I am wholly thine.’
(I may take this opportunity of mentioning that, in every case where an abrupt
change of metre occurs in one of my translations, it is so also in the original poem.)
SONNET: TO A FRIEND WHO DOES NOT PITY HIS LOVE
If I entreat this lady that all grace
Seem not unto her heart an enemy,
Foolish and evil thou declarest me,
And desperate in idle stubbornness.
Whence is such cruel judgment thine, whose face, 5
To him that looks thereon, professeth thee
Faithful, and wise, and of all courtesy,
And made after the way of gentleness.
Alas! my soul within my heart doth find
Sighs, and its grief by weeping doth enhance, 10
That, drown’d in bitter tears, those sighs depart:
And then there seems a presence in the mind,
As of a lady’s thoughtful countenance
Come to behold the death of the poor heart.
BALLATA: HE PERCEIVES THAT HIS HIGHEST LOVE IS GONE FROM HIM
Through this my strong and new misaventure,
Complete Poetical Works of Dante Gabriel Rossetti Page 43