Petrarch (26 page)

Perhaps all those who read
don’t understand
;

who sets the net
not always gets the catch,

and he
who is too subtle
breaks his head.

Let not
the law be lame when others wait.

To feel good
one descends
for many miles.

Something seems wonderful, then is despised;

a hidden beauty
is the sweetest thing.

And
blessèd be the key
that in my heart

was turned, and freed
my soul
and shook it from

the chains that were so heavy

and let loose from my breast those endless sighs.

There where I grieved the most
another grieves
,

and grieving makes my grief still sweeter now;

and so with thanks to Love

I feel
no more, yet it’s no less
than ever.

In silence
, like those words skillful and wise,

is sound that takes all other cares from me,

and the
dark prison
with its lovely light;

nocturnal violets
all along the shore,

and the
wild animals
inside the walls,

the sweet timidity and lovely habits,

and from two fountains one stream turned to
peace

to where I want it gathered
where it is
;

and
love and jealousy
all took my heart,

the stars of that fair face,

all lead me on along a smoother way

toward my hope, the end of all my troubles.

O hidden good of mine, and that which follows,

now peace, now war, now truce,

don’t ever leave me
while I wear these clothes
.

I weep
for my past sins and also smile

because of all my faith
in what I hear
;

del presente mi godo et meglio aspetto,

et vo contando gli anni, et taccio et grido.

E ’n bel ramo m’annido et in tal modo

ch’ i’ ne ringrazio et lodo il gran disdetto

che l’indurato affetto al fine à vinto,

et ne l’aima depinto: “i’ sare’ udito

e mostratone a dito,” et ànne estinto

(tanto innanzi son pinto

ch’ i’ ’l pur dirò): “Non fostu tant’ ardito,”

chi m’à ’l fianco ferito et chi ’l risalda,

per cui nel cor via più che ’n carta scrivo,

chi mi fa morto et vivo,

chi ’n un punto m’agghiaccia et mi riscalda.

Nova angeletta sovra l’aie accorta

scese dal cielo in su la fresca riva

là ’nd’ io passava sol per mio destino.

Poi che senza compagna et senza scorta

mi vide, un laccio che di seta ordiva

tese fra l’erba ond’ è verde il camino.

Allor fui preso, et non mi spiacque poi,

sì dolce lume uscia degli occhi suoi.

the present
I enjoy and wait for better
;

I count the years,
I’m silent and cry out
.

I nest
on a good branch
in such a way

I’m thankful and I praise
the great refusal

that vanquished finally
the base affect

and on my soul engraved: “I would be heard of

and pointed out for it,” and erased from it

(I’m pushed so far ahead

that I can say it): “You weren’t
bold enough
”—

she who has wounded me and heals my side,

for whom I write in heart more than on paper,

who makes me die and live,

who at the same time makes me freeze and burn.

A marvelous little angel with quick wings

descended
from the heavens
to the fresh shore

where fate would have it I walked
all alone
.

When she saw me
with no friend and no guide
,

a trap that she had woven
out of silk

she set
within the grass
that greened my path.

Then I was caught, and
I was not unhappy
—

the sweetest
light came spreading
from her eyes.

Non veggio ove scampar mi possa omai;

sì lunga guerra i begli occhi mi fanno

ch’ i’ temo, lasso, no ’l soverchio affanno

distrugga ’l cor che triegua non à mai.

Fuggir vorrei, ma gli amorosi rai

che di et notte ne la mente stanno

risplendon sì ch’ al quintodecimo anno

m’abbaglian più che ’l primo giorno assai,

et l’imagine lor son si cosparte

che volver non mi posso ov’ io non veggia

o quella o simil indi accesa luce.

Solo d’un lauro tal selva verdeggia

che ’l mio avversario con mirabil arte

vago fra i rami ovunque vuol m’adduce.

Aventuroso più d’altro terreno,

ov’ Amor vidi già fermar le piante

ver me volgendo quelle luci sante

che fanno intorno a sé l’aere sereno:

prima poria per tempo venir meno

un’imagine salda di diamante

che l’atto dolce non mi stia davante

del quai ò la memoria e ’l cor sì pieno;

né tante volte ti vedrò giamai

ch’ i’ non m’inchini a ricercar de l’orme

che ’l bel pie’ fece in quel cortese giro.

Ma se ’n cor valoroso Amor non dorme,

prega Sennuccio mio, quando ’l vedrai,

di qualche lagrimetta o d’un sospiro.

No longer do I see a way to flee:

those lovely eyes
have fought me
for so long

that I fear, oh my God, excessive torture

will break my heart that never has known peace.

I’d run away, but all those
loving rays

that night and day stay fixed inside my mind

shine with such light that in my fifteenth year

I’m dazzled more than the first day they struck,

and images of them are so widespread

that I can turn nowhere without beholding

that very light or like
light lit from it
.

From just one
laurel tree
such forests flourish
,

so that
my foe
with his amazing skill

can lead me
through the branches where he pleases.

More fortunate
than any other ground,

the place I once saw
Love stop in her steps

and turn toward me those holy lights of hers

that turn the air around her to
clear peace
:

a statue that was cut from
solid diamond

would wear away with time before the sight

of her sweet bearing disappeared from me—

so much it
fills my heart
and memory;

though
I shall see you
many times again,

not once will I not
bend to seek
the print

her lovely foot made turning graciously.

If in
a noble heart
Love never sleeps,

then
beg of my Sennuccio
when you see him

for a little tear or two, or for a sigh.

Lasso, quante fiate Amor m’assale

che fra la notte e ’l dì son più di mille

torno dov’ arder vidi le faville

che ’l foco del mio cor fanno immortale.

Ivi m’acqueto, et son condotto a tale

ch’ a nona, a vespro, a l’alba et a le squille

le trovo nel pensier tanto tranquille

che di null’altro mi rimembra o cale.

Laura soave che dal chiaro viso

move col suon de le parole accorte

per far dolce sereno ovunque spira,

quasi un spirto gentil di paradiso

sempre in quell’aere par che mi conforte,

si che ’l cor lasso altrove non respira.

Persequendomi Amor al luogo usato,

ristretto in guisa d’uom ch’ aspetta guerra,

che si provede e i passi intorno serra,

de’ miei antichi pensier mi stava armato;

volsimi et vidi un’ombra che da lato

stampava il sole, et riconobbi in terra

quella che, se ’l giudicio mio non erra,

era più degna d’immortale stato.

I’ dicea fra mio cor: “Perché paventi?”

ma non fu prima dentro il penser giunto

che i raggi ov’ io mi struggo eran presenti;

come col balenar tona in un punto,

così fu’ io de’ begli occhi lucenti

et d’un dolce saluto inseme aggiunto.

Alas, whenever Love besieges me

(more than a thousand times through day and night)

I turn to where I saw
those burning sparks

that make the
fire
in my heart immortal.

Therein
I calm myself
and have become

such that at noon,
vespers, dawn
, and at bell time

I find them in my thought so tranquil there,

I think of nothing else
nor do I care.

The gentle aura
that from her splendid face

moves with the sound of those wise words of hers

to bring sweet weather every place it breathes,

as if it were a breath from paradise

forever in that air
, seems to comfort me,

and so my weary heart breathes nowhere else.

With Love pursuing me
to that same place
,

I, cautious, as a man expecting war

prepares himself and closes all the passes,

was there and armed with
all of my old thoughts
;

I turned
and
saw a shadow
by my side

stamped by the sun
, and I knew from the ground

that it was she
(if judgment does not fail)

who was more worthy of a
godly state
.

I said inside my heart: “What do you fear?”

No sooner had the thought come to my mind

than were those rays that melt me present there:

as lightning comes
with thunder both at once,

so I by lovely eyes that shone, was struck

together with the sound of her sweet greeting.

La donna che ’l mio cor nel viso porta,

là dove sol fra bei pensier d’amore

sedea, m’apparve, e io per farle onore

mossi con fronte reverente et smorta.

Tosto che del mio stato fussi accorta,

a me si volse in si novo colore

ch’ avrebbe a Giove nel maggior furore

tolto l’arme di mano et l’ira morta.

I’ mi riscossi, et ella oltra parlando

passò, ché la parola i’ non soffersi

né ’l dolce sfavillar de gli occhi suoi.

Or mi ritrovo pien di sì diversi

piaceri, in quel saluto ripensando,

che duol non sento né senti’ ma’ poi.

Sennuccio, i’ vo’ che sapi in qual manera

trattato sono et qual vita è la mia:

ardomi et struggo ancor com’ io solia,

l’aura mi volve et son pur quel ch’ i’ m’era.

Qui tutta umile et qui la vidi altera,

or aspra or piana, or dispietata or pia,

or vestirsi onestate or leggiadria,

or mansueta or disdegnosa et fera.

Qui canto dolcemente, et qui s’assise,

qui si rivolse, et qui rattenne il passo,

qui co’ begli occhi mi trafisse il core,

qui disse una parola, et qui sorrise,

qui cangiò il viso. In questi pensier, lasso,

notte et dì tiemmi il signor nostro Amore.

The lady who
in her eyes bears my heart

appeared to me where I sat all alone

in
lovely thoughts of love
; to pay her honor

I moved,
and my face
was pale and reverent.

As soon as she saw me
in such condition

she turned to me
with color so astounding

it would have made Jove in his greatest fury

drop all his arms
and kill his very wrath.

And I was trembling as she spoke and passed

me by, for I could not endure her words

nor all the sparkling sweetness of those eyes.

Now I am full of such extraordinary

pleasure when
reconsidering her greeting
,

I feel no pain
and have not since that time.

Sennuccio, I want you to know the way

I’m treated and the kind of life I lead:

I burn and suffer as I always have,

caught in the aura
, I’m still just what I was.

All humble
here, and there
I see her
haughty,

now harsh then kind, now cruel then merciful,

now clothed
in virtue, then lightheartedness
,

and now
docile, and then fierce
and disdainful.

With sweetness
she sang here
, and
here she sat
,

here she turned round, and here
held back her steps
,

here with her lovely eyes she pierced my heart,

here she
pronounced a word
and here she smiled,

and here she changed expression.
In thoughts
like these,

alas, our lord Love keeps me day and night.

Qui dove mezzo son, Sennuccio mio

(così ci foss’ io intero et voi contento),

venni fuggendo la tempesta e ’l vento

ch’ ànno subito fatto il tempo rio.

Qui son securo, et vo’ vi dir perch’ io

non come soglio il folgorar pavento

et perché mitigato, non che spento,

né mica trovo il mio ardente desio.

Tosto che giunto a l’amorosa reggia

vidi onde nacque l’aura dolce et pura

ch’ acqueta l’aere et mette i tuoni in bando,

Amor ne l’aima ov’ ella signoreggia

raccese ’l foco et spense la paura:

che farrei dunque gli occhi suoi guardando?

De l’empia Babilonia ond’ è fuggita

ogni vergogna, ond’ ogni bene è fori,