by Mark Musa
in my first errant youthful days when I
in part was not the man I am today;
for all the ways in which I weep and speak
between vain hopes, between vain suffering,
in anyone who knows love through its trials,
in them, may I find pity and forgiveness.
But now I see how I’ve become the talk
so long a time of people all around
(it often makes me feel so full of shame),
and from my vanities there comes shame’s fruit,
and my repentance, and the clear awareness
that worldly joy is just a fleeting dream.
2
Determined to take up graceful revenge
and punish in one day a thousand wrongs,
secretly Love took up his bow again
and chose the proper time and place to strike.
My strength was concentrated in my heart,
and there and in my eyes raised its defense
when down upon it struck the mortal blow
where every other arrow had been blunted;
and so, bewildered by this first assault,
it did not have the vigor or the chance
to take up arms when it was time to fight,
or even to lead me cleverly back up
the high, hard mountain saving me from slaughter,
from which he’d like to now, but cannot help.
3
Era il giorno ch’ al sol si scoloraro
per la pietà del suo fattore i rai
quando i’ fui preso, et non me ne guardai,
ché i be’ vostr’ occhi, Donna, mi legaro.
Tempo non mi parea da far riparo
contr’ a’ colpi d’Amor; però m’andai
secur, senza sospetto, onde i miei guai
nel commune dolor s’incominciaro.
Trovommi Amor del tutto disarmato,
et aperta la via per gli occhi al core
che di lagrime son fatti uscio et varco.
Però al mio parer non li fu onore
ferir me de saetta in quello stato,
a voi armata non mostrar pur l’arco.
4
Que’ ch’ infinita providenzia et arte
mostrò nel suo mirabil magistero,
che criò questo et quell’altro emispero,
et mansueto più Giove che Marte,
vegnendo in terra a ’Iluminar le carte
ch’ avean molt’anni già celato il vero,
tolse Giovanni da la rete et Piero
et nel regno del ciel fece lor parte;
di sé nascendo a Roma non fe’ grazia,
a Giudea sì, tanto sovr’ ogni stato
umiltate esaltar sempre gli piacque.
Ed or di picciol borgo un sol n’à dato,
tal che natura o ’l luogo si ringrazia
onde sì bella donna al mondo nacque.
3
It was the day the sun’s ray had turned pale
with pity for the suffering of his Maker
when I was caught (and I put up no fight),
my lady, for your lovely eyes had bound me.
It seemed no time to be on guard against
Love’s blows; therefore, I went my way
secure and fearless—so, all my misfortunes
began in midst of universal woe.
Love found me all disarmed and saw the way
was clear to reach my heart down through the eyes,
which have become the halls and doors of tears.
It seems to me it did him little honor
to wound me with his arrow in my state
and to you, armed, not show his bow at all.
4
That one who showed His endless providence
and art by means of marvelous workmanship,
who made this and that other hemisphere
and who created Jove more mild than Mars,
who coming down to earth illuminating
those pages that had hid the truth so long,
took Peter from the nets and John as well,
making of them a part of Heaven’s realm,
who with His birth did not choose Rome to grace,
but chose Judea, for above all else
it pleased Him to exalt humility.
And now from a small town He’s given us
a sun such that we thank Nature and place
that brought into the world this lovely lady.
5
Quando io movo i sospiri a chiamar voi
e ’l nome che nel cor mi scrisse Amore,
LAU-dando s’incomincia udir di fore
il suon de’ primi dolci accenti suoi;
vostro stato RE-al che ’ncontro poi
raddoppia a l’alta impresa il mio valore;
ma “TA-ci,” grida il fin, “ché farle onore
è d’altri omeri soma che da’ tuoi.”
Cosi LAU-dare et RE-verire insegna
la voce stessa, pur ch’ altri vi chiami,
o d’ogni reverenza et d’onor degna;
se non che forse Apollo si disdegna
ch’a parlar de’ suoi sempre verdi rami
lingua mor-TA-l presuntuosa vegna.
6
Si traviato è ’l folle mi’ desio
a seguitar costei che ’n fuga è volta
et de’ lacci d’Amor leggiera et sciolta
vola dinanzi al lento correr mio,
che quanto richiamando più l’envio
per la secura strada men m’ascolta,
né mi vale spronarlo o dargli volta
ch’ Amor per sua natura il fa restio;
et poi che ’l fren per forza a sé raccoglie,
i’ mi rimango in signoria di lui,
che mal mio grado a morte mi trasporta;
sol per venir al lauro onde si coglie
acerbo frutto, che le piaghe altrui
gustando affligge più che non conforta.
5
When I summon my sighs to call for you,
with that name Love inscribed upon my heart,
in LAUdable the sound at the beginning
of the sweet accents of that word comes forth.
Your REgal state which I encounter next
doubles my strength for the high enterprise,
but “TAcitly” the end cries, “for her honor
needs better shoulders for support than yours.”
And so, to LAUd and to REvere the word
itself instructs whenever someone calls you,
O lady worthy of all praise and honor,
unless, perhaps, Apollo be offended
that morTAl tongue be so presumptuous
to speak of his eternally green boughs.
6
So far astray is my insane desire
to chase this lady who has turned in flight,
and light and liberated of Love’s snares,
flies off ahead of my slow run for her,
that when, calling him back, the more I send him
by the safe path the less he pays me heed;
nor does it help to spur him or to turn him,
for Love by its own nature makes him restive;
and when by force he takes the reins himself,
I am left there in harness of his lordship
as he against my will rides me to death,
only to reach the laurel where is gathered
the bitter fruit, once tasted, that afflicts
rather than comforts someone else’s wounds.
7
La gola e ’l sonno et l’oziose piume
ànno del mondo ogni vertù sbandita,
ond’ è dal corso suo quasi smarrita
nostra natura vinta dal costume;
et è sì spento ogni benigno lume
del ciel per cui s’informa umana vita,
che per cosa mirabile s’addita
chi vol far d’Elicona nascer flume.
Qual vaghezza di l
auro, qual di mirto?
“Povera et nuda vai, Filosofia,”
dice la turba al vil guadagno intesa.
Pochi compagni avrai per l’altra via:
tanto ti prego più, gentile spirto,
non lassar la magnanima tua impresa.
8
A pie’ de’ colli ove la bella vesta
prese de le terrene membra pria
la donna che colui ch’ a te ne ’nvia
spesso dal sonno lagrimando desta,
libere in pace passavam per questa
vita mortal, ch’ ogni animal desia,
senza sospetto di trovar fra via
cosa ch’ al nostro andar fosse molesta.
Ma del misero stato ove noi semo
condotte da la vita altra serena
un sol conforto, et de la morte, avemo:
che vendetta è di lui ch’ a ciò ne mena,
lo qual in forza altrui presso a l’estremo
riman legato con maggior catena.
7
Gluttony, sleep, pillows of idleness,
have banished every virtue from the world
whereby our nature conquered by its habits
has almost lost its way along the road;
so spent is every good light from the heavens
which should inform our human life that he
is pointed out as some remarkable thing
who would make water flow from Helicon.
Who wishes for the laurel, or for myrtle!
“In poverty and naked goes Philosphy,”
the masses bent on making money say.
You will have few companions on that road,
so all the more I beg you, noble spirit,
do not abandon your magnanimous task.
8
Beneath those hills (where she had first adorned
those worldly parts of hers in lovely clothes,
that lady, she who often wakens weeping
the one who now is sending us to you)
we used to make our way through mortal life
in peace and freedom all creatures desire,
without the fear of finding on our course
something that might be harmful to our going.
But for the wretched state to which we’ve been
brought from the other life that was serene,
and for our death, we have one consolation:
revenge is taken on the one who caught us,
for he is caught by power of another
and, near his end, is bound by greater chains.
9
Quando ’l pianeta che distingue l’ore
ad albergar col Tauro si ritorna,
cade vertù da l’infiammate corna
che veste il mondo di novel colore,
Et non pur quel che s’apre a noi di fore,
le rive e i colli, di fioretti adorna,
ma dentro, dove giamai non s’aggiorna,
gravido fa di sé il terrestro umore;
onde tal frutto et simile si colga.
Così costei, ch’ è tra le donne un sole,
in me movendo de’ begli occhi i rai
cria d’amor penseri atti et parole;
ma come ch’ ella gli governi o volga,
primavera per me pur non è mai.
10
Gloriosa Columna in cui s’appoggia
nostra speranza e ’l gran nome latino,
ch’ ancor non torse del vero camino
l’ira di Giove per ventosa pioggia,
qui non palazzi, non teatro o loggia;
ma ’n lor vece un abete, un faggio, un pino—
tra l’erba verde e ’l bel monte vicino
onde si scende poetando et poggia—
levan di terra al ciel nostr’ intelletto;
e ’l rosigniuol che dolcemente all’ombra
tutte le notti si lamenta et piagne,
d’amorosi penseri il cor ne ’ngombra.
Ma tanto ben sol tronchi et fai imperfetto
tu che da noi, Signor mio, ti scompagne.
9
The time is when the planet that marks hours
returns once more to make its home with Taurus,
whose flaming horns now pour down with their power
and decorate the world with fresh-made color.
Not only that which stretches out before us,
the banks and hills, does he adorn with flowers,
but hidden things that never see the dawn
does he make pregnant with his earthly moisture,
that it may give us this fruit and the like.
So she, who is a sun among all ladies,
moving the rays of her fair eyes, in me
gives rise to thoughts and acts and words of love—
no matter, though, how she controls or turns them,
springtime for me will never come about.
10
Glorious column upon whom there rests
our hope and great renown of Latium,
whom even the wrath of Jove with buffeting rain
has not yet turned aside from the true path:
there are no palaces, theaters, loggias here;
instead a fir, a beech, a pine tree stand—
between green grass and mountainside nearby,
where we in poetry descend and climb—
to lift our intellects from earth to heaven;
there is a nightingale that in the shadows
sweetly lamenting weeps throughout the night
and burdens every heart with thoughts of love.
From goodness you alone cut short perfection,
keeping yourself far from us here, my lord.
11
Lassare il velo per sole o per ombra,
Donna, non vi vid’ io
poi che in me conosceste il gran desio
ch’ ogni altra voglia d’entr’ al cor mi sgombra.
Mentr’ io portava i be’ pensier celati
ch’ ànno la mente desiando morta,
vidivi di pietate ornare il volto;
ma poi ch’ Amor di me vi fece accorta,
fuor i biondi capelli allor velati
et l’amoroso sguardo in sé raccolto.
Quel ch’ i’ più desiava in voi m’è tolto,
si mi governa il velo
che per mia morte et al caldo et al gielo
de’ be’ vostr’ occhi il dolce lume adombra.
12
Se la mia vita da l’aspro tormento
si può tanto schermire, et dagli affanni,
ch’ i’ veggia per vertù degli ultimi anni,
Donna, de’ be’ vostr’ occhi il lume spento,
e i cape’ d’oro fin farsi d’argento,
et lassar le ghirlande e i verdi panni,
e ’l viso scolorir che ne’ miei danni
al lamentar mi fa pauroso et lento,
pur mi darà tanta baldanza Amore
ch’ i’ vi discovrirò de’ miei martiri
qua’ sono stati gli anni, e i giorni, et l’ore;
et se ’l tempo è contrario ai be’ desiri,
non fia ch’ almen non giunga al mio dolore
alcun soccorso di tardi sospiri.
11
In sun or shade I’ve never seen you, lady,
remove that veil of yours
since you discovered my so great desire
that every other wish fades in my heart.
While I carried my loving thoughts in secret,
the ones that kill my heart with their desire,
I saw your face adorned with pity then;
but when Love made you conscious of my feelings,
your blond hair took the veil immediately,
your loving gaze withdrew into itself.
What I most longed for in you I have lost;
it is the veil that rules me,
which to my death, in warmth or cooler weather,
covers the sweet light of your lovely eyes.
If my life can resist the bitter anguish
and all its struggles long enough for me
to see the brilliance of your lovely eyes,
lady, dimmed by the force of your last years,
and your fine golden hair changing to silver,
and see you give up garlands and green clothes,
and your face pale that in all my misfortunes
now makes me slow and timid to lament,
then Love at least will make me bold enough
so that I may disclose to you my suffering,
the years, the days, the hours, what they were like;
and should time work against my sweet desires,
at least it will not stop my grief receiving
some comfort brought by late-arriving sighs.
13
Quando fra l’altre donne ad ora ad ora
Amor vien nel bel viso di costei,
quanto ciascuna è men bella di lei
tanto cresce ’l desio che m’innamora.
I’ benedico il loco e ’l tempo et l’ora
che sì alto miraron gli occhi mei,
et dico: “Anima, assai ringraziar dei
che fosti a tanto onor degnata allora.
“Da lei ti ven l’amoroso pensero
che mentre ’l segui al sommo ben t’invia,
poco prezzando quel ch’ ogni uom desia;
“da lei vien l’animosa leggiadria
ch’ al ciel ti scorge per destro sentero,
si ch’ i’ vo già de la speranza altero.”
14
Occhi miei lassi, mentre ch’ io vi giro
nel bel viso di quella che v’à morti,
pregovi siate accorti,
che già vi sfida Amore, ond’ io sospiro.
Morte po chiuder sola a’ miei penseri
l’amoroso camin che gli conduce
al dolce porto de la lor salute,
ma puossi a voi celar la vostra luce
per meno oggetto, perché meno interi
siete formati et di minor virtute.
Però dolenti, anzi che sian venute
l’ore del pianto che son già vicine,
prendete or a la fine