The Sonnets Of Michael Angelo Buonarroti And Tommaso Campanella - LightNovelsOnl.com
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XXIII.
_FLESH AND SPIRIT._
_Ben posson gli occhi._
Well may these eyes of mine both near and far Behold the beams that from thy beauty flow; But, lady, feet must halt where sight may go: We see, but cannot climb to clasp a star.
The pure ethereal soul surmounts that bar Of flesh, and soars to where thy splendours glow, Free through the eyes; while prisoned here below, Though fired with fervent love, our bodies are.
Clogged with mortality and wingless, we Cannot pursue an angel in her flight: Only to gaze exhausts our utmost might.
Yet, if but heaven like earth incline to thee, Let my whole body be one eye to see, That not one part of me may miss thy sight!
XXIV.
_THE DOOM OF BEAUTY._
_Spirto ben nato._
Choice soul, in whom, as in a gla.s.s, we see, Mirrored in thy pure form and delicate, What beauties heaven and nature can create, The paragon of all their works to be!
Fair soul, in whom love, pity, piety, Have found a home, as from thy outward state We clearly read, and are so rare and great That they adorn none other like to thee!
Love takes me captive; beauty binds my soul; Pity and mercy with their gentle eyes Wake in my heart a hope that cannot cheat.
What law, what destiny, what fell control, What cruelty, or late or soon, denies That death should spare perfection so complete?
XXV.
_THE TRANSFIGURATION OF BEAUTY:_
A DIALOGUE WITH LOVE.
_Dimmi di grazia, amor._
Nay, prithee tell me, Love, when I behold My lady, do mine eyes her beauty see In truth, or dwells that loveliness in me Which multiplies her grace a thousandfold?
Thou needs must know; for thou with her of old Comest to stir my soul's tranquillity; Yet would I not seek one sigh less, or be By loss of that loved flame more simply cold.-- The beauty thou discernest, all is hers; But grows in radiance as it soars on high Through mortal eyes unto the soul above: 'Tis there transfigured; for the soul confers On what she holds, her own divinity: And this transfigured beauty wins thy love.
XXVI.
_JOY MAY KILL._
_Non men gran grasia, donna._
Too much good luck no less than misery May kill a man condemned to mortal pain, If, lost to hope and chilled in every vein, A sudden pardon comes to set him free.
Thus thy unwonted kindness shown to me Amid the gloom where only sad thoughts reign, With too much rapture bringing light again, Threatens my life more than that agony.
Good news and bad may bear the self-same knife; And death may follow both upon their flight; For hearts that shrink or swell, alike will break.
Let then thy beauty, to preserve my life, Temper the source of this supreme delight, Lest joy so poignant slay a soul so weak.
XXVII.
_NO ESCAPE FROM LOVE._
_Non posso altra figura._
I cannot by the utmost flight of thought Conceive another form of air or clay, Wherewith against thy beauty to array My wounded heart in armour fancy-wrought: For, lacking thee, so low my state is brought, That Love hath stolen all my strength away; Whence, when I fain would halve my griefs, they weigh With double sorrow, and I sink to nought.
Thus all in vain my soul to scape thee flies, For ever faster flies her beauteous foe: From the swift-footed feebly run the slow!
Yet with his hands Love wipes my weeping eyes, Saying, this toil will end in happy cheer; What costs the heart so much, must needs be dear!
XXVIII.
_THE HEAVENLY BIRTH OF LOVE AND BEAUTY._
_La vita del mie amor._
This heart of flesh feeds not with life my love: The love wherewith I love thee hath no heart; Nor harbours it in any mortal part, Where erring thought or ill desire may move.
When first Love sent our souls from G.o.d above, He fas.h.i.+oned me to see thee as thou art-- Pure light; and thus I find G.o.d's counterpart In thy fair face, and feel the sting thereof.
As heat from fire, from loveliness divine The mind that wors.h.i.+ps what recalls the sun From whence she sprang, can be divided never: And since thine eyes all Paradise enshrine, Burning unto those orbs of light I run, There where I loved thee first to dwell for ever.
XXIX.
_LOVE'S DILEMMA._
_I' mi credetti._
I deemed upon that day when first I knew So many peerless beauties blent in one, That, like an eagle gazing on the sun, Mine eyes might fix on the least part of you.
That dream hath vanished, and my hope is flown; For he who fain a seraph would pursue Wingless, hath cast words to the winds, and dew On stones, and gauged G.o.d's reason with his own.
If then my heart cannot endure the blaze Of beauties infinite that blind these eyes, Nor yet can bear to be from you divided, What fate is mine? Who guides or guards my ways, Seeing my soul, so lost and ill-betided, Burns in your presence, in your absence dies?
x.x.x.
TO TOMMASO DE' CAVALIERI.
