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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d7b82bc --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,4 @@ +*.txt text eol=lf +*.htm text eol=lf +*.html text eol=lf +*.md text eol=lf diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..b5900e6 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #50307 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/50307) diff --git a/old/50307-8.txt b/old/50307-8.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 608be0a..0000000 --- a/old/50307-8.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,1242 +0,0 @@ -Project Gutenberg's Fifteen sonnets of Petrarch, by Francesco Petrarca - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with -almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or -re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included -with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org/license - - -Title: Fifteen sonnets of Petrarch - -Author: Francesco Petrarca - -Translator: Thomas Wentworth Higginson - -Release Date: October 25, 2015 [EBook #50307] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FIFTEEN SONNETS OF PETRARCH *** - - - - -Produced by Carlo Traverso, Linda Cantoni, and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net, in -celebration of Distributed Proofreaders' 15th Anniversary, -using images generously made available by The Internet -Archive. - - - - - - - - - -[Transcriber's Note: Printer errors in the Italian sonnets are noted -in the Transcriber's Note at the end of this file, along with a list -of the corresponding sonnet numbers in _Il Canzoniere_.] - - - - -FIFTEEN SONNETS OF PETRARCH - -[Illustration] - - SELECTED AND TRANSLATED BY - THOMAS WENTWORTH HIGGINSON - PUBLISHED BY HOUGHTON MIFFLIN - & COMPANY BOSTON AND NEW YORK - MDCCCCIII - - COPYRIGHT 1900 AND 1903 - BY THOMAS WENTWORTH HIGGINSON - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED - - - - -INTRODUCTION - - - - -NOTE - - -This introduction is based essentially upon a paper 'Sunshine and -Petrarch' which originally included most of the sonnets in this -volume. It was written at Newport, R.I., where the translator was -then residing. - - - - -INTRODUCTION - - -Near my summer home there is a little cove or landing by the bay, -where nothing larger than a boat can ever anchor. I sit above it -now, upon the steep bank, knee-deep in buttercups, and amid grass so -lush and green that it seems to ripple and flow instead of waving. -Below lies a tiny beach, strewn with a few bits of driftwood and some -purple shells, and so sheltered by projecting walls that its wavelets -plash but lightly. A little farther out the sea breaks more roughly -over submerged rocks, and the waves lift themselves, before breaking, -in an indescribable way, as if each gave a glimpse through a -translucent window, beyond which all ocean's depths might be clearly -seen, could one but hit the proper angle of vision. On the right side -of my retreat a high wall limits the view, while close upon the left -the crumbling parapet of Fort Greene stands out into the foreground, -its verdant scarp so relieved against the blue water that each inward -bound schooner seems to sail into a cave of grass. In the middle -distance is a white lighthouse, and beyond lie the round tower of -old Fort Louis, and the soft low walls of Conanicut. - -Behind me an oriole chirrups in triumph amid the birch-trees which -wave around the house of the haunted window; before me a kingfisher -pauses and waits, and a darting blackbird shows the scarlet on his -wings. Sloops and schooners constantly come and go, careening in the -wind, their white sails taking, if remote enough, a vague blue mantle -from the delicate air. Sailboats glide in the distance,--each a mere -white wing of canvas,--or coming nearer, and glancing suddenly into -the cove, are put as suddenly on the other tack, and almost in an -instant seem far away. There is to-day such a live sparkle on the -water, such a luminous freshness on the grass, that it seems, as is -often the case in early June, as if all history were a dream, and the -whole earth were but the creation of a summer's day. - -If Petrarch still knows and feels the consummate beauty of these -earthly things, it may seem to him some repayment for the sorrows of -a lifetime that one reader, after all this lapse of years, should -choose his sonnets to match this grass, these blossoms, and the -soft lapse of these blue waves. Yet any longer or more continuous -poem would be out of place to-day. I fancy that this narrow cove -prescribes the proper limits of a sonnet; and when I count the lines -of ripple within yonder projecting wall, there proves to be room for -just fourteen. Nature meets our whims with such little fitnesses. -The words which build these delicate structures of Petrarch's are as -soft and fine and close-textured as the sands upon this tiny beach, -and their monotone, if such it be, is the monotone of the neighboring -ocean. Is it not possible, by bringing such a book into the open air, -to separate it from the grimness of commentators, and bring it back -to life and light and Italy? The beautiful earth is the same as when -this poetry and passion were new; there is the same sunlight, the -same blue water and green grass; yonder pleasure-boat might bear, for -aught we know, the friends and lovers of five centuries ago; Petrarch -and Laura might be there, with Boccaccio and Fiammetta as comrades, -and with Chaucer as their stranger guest. It bears, at any rate, if I -know its voyagers, eyes as lustrous, voices as sweet. With the world -thus young, beauty eternal, fancy free, why should these delicious -Italian pages exist but to be tortured into grammatical examples? -Is there no reward to be imagined for a delightful book that can -match Browning's fantastic burial of a tedious one? When it has -sufficiently basked in sunshine, and been cooled in pure salt air, -when it has bathed in heaped clover, and been scented, page by page, -with melilot, cannot its beauty once more blossom, and its buried -loves revive? - -Emboldened by such influences, at least let me translate a sonnet -(Lieti fiori e felici), and see if anything is left after the sweet -Italian syllables are gone. Before this continent was discovered, -before English literature existed, when Chaucer was a child these -words were written. Yet they are to-day as fresh and perfect as these -laburnum blossoms that droop above my head. And as the variable and -uncertain air comes freighted with clover-scent from yonder field, so -floats through these long centuries a breath of fragrance, the memory -of Laura. - -Goethe compared translators to carriers, who convey good wine to -market, though it gets unaccountably watered by the way. The more -one praises a poem, the more absurd becomes one's position, perhaps, -in trying to translate it. If it is so admirable,--is the natural -inquiry,--why not let it alone? It is a doubtful blessing to -the human race, that the instinct of translation still prevails, -stronger than reason; and after one has once yielded to it, then -each untranslated favorite is like the trees round a backwoodsman's -clearing, each of which stands, a silent defiance, until he has cut -it down. Let us try the axe again. This is to Laura singing (Quando -Amor). - -As I look across the bay, there is seen resting over all the hills, -and even upon every distant sail, an enchanted veil of palest blue, -that seems woven out of the very souls of happy days,--a bridal veil, -with which the sunshine weds this soft landscape in summer. Such -and so indescribable is the atmospheric film that hangs over these -poems of Petrarch's; there is a delicate haze about the words, that -vanishes when you touch them, and reappears as you recede. How it -clings, for instance, round this sonnet (Aura che quelle chiome)! - -Consider also the pure and reverential tenderness of one like this -(Qual donna attende). A companion sonnet, on the other hand (O -passi sparsi), seems rather to be of the Shakespearean type; the -successive phrases set sail, one by one, like a yacht squadron; each -spreads its graceful wings and glides away. It is hard to handle -this white canvas without soiling. Macgregor, in the only version of -this sonnet which I have seen, abandons all attempt at rhyme; but to -follow the strict order of the original in this respect is a part -of the pleasant problem which one cannot bear to forgo. And there -seems a kind of deity who presides over this union of languages, and -who sometimes silently lays the words in order, after all one's poor -attempts have failed. - -Yonder flies a kingfisher, and pauses, fluttering like a butterfly -in the air, then dives toward a fish, and, failing, perches on the -projecting wall. Doves from neighboring dove-cots alight on the -parapet of the fort, fearless of the quiet cattle who find there a -breezy pasture. These doves, in taking flight, do not rise from the -ground at once, but, edging themselves closer to the brink, with a -caution almost ludicrous in such airy things, thrust themselves upon -the breeze with a shy little hop, and at the next moment are securely -on the wing. - -How the abundant sunlight inundates everything! The great clumps of -grass and clover are imbedded in it to the roots; it flows in among -their stalks, like water; the lilac-bushes bask in it eagerly; the -topmost leaves of the birches are burnished. A vessel sails by with -plash and roar, and all the white spray along her side is sparkling -with sunlight. Yet there is sorrow in the world, and it reached -Petrarch even before Laura died,--when it reached her. One exquisite -sonnet (I' vidi in terra) shows this to have been true. - -These sonnets are in Petrarch's earlier manner; but the death of -Laura brought a change. Look at yonder schooner coming down the bay -straight toward us; she is hauled close to the wind, her jib is -white in the sunlight, her larger sails are touched with the same -snowy lustre, and all the swelling canvas is rounded into such lines -of beauty as scarcely anything else in the world--hardly even the -perfect outlines of the human form--can give. Now she comes up into -the wind, and goes about with a strong flapping of her sails, smiting -on the ear at a half-mile's distance; then she glides off on the -other tack, showing the shadowed side of her sails, until she reaches -the distant zone of haze. So change the sonnets after Laura's death, -growing shadowy as they recede, until the very last (Gli occhi di -ch'io parlai) seems to merge itself in the blue distance. - -"And yet I live!" (Ed io pur vivo) What a pause is implied before -these words with which the closing sestet of this sonnet begins! the -drawing of a long breathy immeasurably long; like that vast interval -of heart-beats which precedes Shakespeare's 'Since Cleopatra died.' -I can think of no other passage in literature that has in it the -same wide spaces of emotion. Another sonnet (Soleasi nel mio cor) -which is still more retrospective, seems to me the most stately and -concentrated in the whole volume. It is the sublimity of a despair -not to be relieved by utterance. In a later strain (Levommi il mio -pensier) he rises to that dream which is more than earth's realities. - -It vindicates the emphatic reality and personality of Petrarch's -love, after all, that when from these heights of vision he surveys -and resurveys his life's long dream, it becomes to him more and -more definite, as well as more poetic, and is farther and farther -from a merely vague sentimentalism. In his later sonnets, Laura -grows more distinctly individual to us; her traits show themselves -as more characteristic, her temperament more intelligible, her -precise influence upon Petrarch clearer. What delicate accuracy of -delineation is seen, for instance, in the sonnet (Dolci durezze)! In -the sonnet (Gli angeli eletti) visions multiply upon visions. Would -that one could transfer into English the delicious way in which the -sweet Italian rhymes recur and surround and seem to embrace each -other, and are woven and unwoven and interwoven, like the heavenly -hosts that gathered around Laura. - -Petrarch's odes and sonnets are but parts of one symphony, leading -us through a passion strengthened by years and only purified by -death, until at last the graceful lay becomes an anthem and a 'Nunc -dimittis.' In the closing sonnets Petrarch withdraws from the world, -and they seem like voices from a cloister, growing more and more -solemn till the door is closed. This is one of the last (Dicemi -spesso). How true is its concluding line! Who can wonder that women -prize beauty, and are intoxicated by their own fascinations, when -these fragile gifts are yet strong enough to outlast all the memories -of statesmanship and war? Next to the immortality of genius is that -which genius may confer upon the object of its love. Laura, while -she lived, was simply one of a hundred or a thousand beautiful and -gracious Italian women; she had her loves and aversions, joys and -griefs; she cared dutifully for her household, and embroidered the -veil which Petrarch loved; her memory appeared as fleeting and -unsubstantial as that of woven tissue. After five centuries we find -that no armor of that iron age was so enduring. The kings whom she -honored, the popes whom she revered are dust, and their memory is -dust, but literature is still fragrant with her name. An impression -which has endured so long is ineffaceable; it is an earthly -immortality. - -"Time is the chariot of all ages to carry men away, and beauty cannot -bribe this charioteer." Thus wrote Petrarch in his Latin essays; but -his love had wealth that proved resistless, and for Laura the chariot -stayed. - - - - -SONNETS - - - I - - Lieti fiori e felici, e ben nate erbe, - Che Madonna, pensando, premer sole; - Piaggia ch'ascolti sue dolci parole, - E del bel piede alcun vestigio serbe; - Schietti arboscelli, e verdi frondi acerbe; - Amorosette e pallide viole; - Ombrose selve, ove percote il Sole, - Che vi fa co' suoi raggi alte e superbe; - O soave contrada, o puro fiume, - Che bagni 'l suo bel viso e gli occhi chiari, - E prendi qualità dal vivo lume; - Quanto v'invidio gli atti onesti e cari! - Non fia in voi scoglio omai che per costume - D'arder con la mia fiamma non impari. - - - I - - O joyous, blossoming, ever-blessed flowers! - 'Mid which my pensive queen her footstep sets; - O plain, that hold'st her words for amulets - And keep'st her footsteps in thy leafy bowers! - O trees, with earliest green of springtime hours, - And all spring's pale and tender violets! - O grove, so dark the proud sun only lets - His blithe rays gild the outskirts of thy towers! - O pleasant country-side! O limpid stream, - That mirrorest her sweet face, her eyes so clear, - And of their living light canst catch the beam! - I envy thee her presence pure and dear. - There is no rock so senseless but I deem - It burns with passion that to mine is near. - - - II - - Quando Amor i begli occhi a terra inchina - E i vaghi spirti in un sospiro accoglie - Con le sue mani, e poi in voce gli scioglie - Chiara, soave, angelica, divina; - Sento far del mio cor dolce rapina, - E sì dentro cangiar pensieri e voglie, - Ch'i' dico: or fien di me l'ultime spoglie, - Se 'l Ciel sì onesta morte mi destina. - Ma 'l suon, che di dolcezza i sensi lega, - Col gran desir d'udendo esser beata, - L'anima, al dipartir presta, raffrena. - Così mi vivo, e così avvolge e spiega - Lo stame della vita che m'è data, - Questa sola fra noi del ciel sirena. - - - II - - When Love doth those sweet eyes to earth incline, - And weaves those wandering notes into a sigh - With his own touch, and leads a minstrelsy - Clear-voiced and pure, angelic and divine,-- - He makes sweet havoc in this heart of mine, - And to my thoughts brings transformation high, - So that I say, "My time has come to die, - If fate so blest a death for me design." - But to my soul, thus steeped in joy, the sound - Brings such a wish to keep that present heaven, - It holds my spirit back to earth as well. - And thus I live: and thus is loosed and wound - The thread of life which unto me was given - By this sole Siren who with us doth dwell. - - - III - - Aura che quelle chiome bionde e crespe - Circondi e movi, e se' mossa da loro - Soavemente, e spargi quel dolce oro, - E poi 'l raccogli e 'n bei nodi 'l rincrespe; - Tu stai negli occhi ond'amorose vespe - Mi pungon sì, che 'nfin qua il sento e ploro; - E vacillando cerco il mio tesoro, - Com'animal che spesso adombre e 'ncespe: - Ch'or mel par ritrovar, ed or m'accorgo - Ch'i' ne son lunge; or mi sollevo, or caggio: - Ch'or quel ch'i' bramo, or quel ch'è vero, scorgo. - Aer felice, col bel vivo raggio - Rimanti. E tu, corrente e chiaro gorgo, - Ché non poss'io cangiar teco viaggio? - - - III - - Sweet air, that circlest round those radiant tresses, - And floatest, mingled with them, fold on fold, - Deliciously, and scatterest that fine gold, - Then twinest it again, my heart's dear jesses; - Thou lingerest on those eyes, whose beauty presses - Stings in my heart that all its life exhaust, - Till I go wandering round my treasure lost, - Like some scared creature whom the night distresses. - I seem to find her now, and now perceive - How far away she is; now rise, now fall; - Now what I wish, now what is true, believe. - O happy air! since joys enrich thee all, - Rest thee; and thou, O stream too bright to grieve! - Why can I not float with thee at thy call? - - - IV - - Qual donna attende a gloriosa fama - Di senno, di valor, di cortesia, - Miri fiso negli occhi a quella mia - Nemica, che mia donna il mondo chiama. - Come s'acquista onor, come Dio s'ama, - Com'è giunta onestà con leggiadria, - Ivi s'impara, e qual è dritta via - Di gir al Ciel, che lei aspetta e brama. - Ivi 'l parlar che nullo stile agguaglia, - E 'l bel tacere, e quei santi costumi - Ch'ingegno uman non può spiegar in carte. - L'infinita bellezza, ch'altrui abbaglia, - Non vi s'impara; ché quei dolci lumi - S'acquistan per ventura e non per arte. - - - IV - - Doth any maiden seek the glorious fame - Of chastity, of strength, of courtesy? - Gaze in the eyes of that sweet enemy - Whom all the world doth as my lady name! - How honor grows, and pure devotion's flame, - How truth is joined with graceful dignity, - There thou mayst learn, and what the path may be - To that high heaven which doth her spirit claim; - There learn that speech, beyond all poet's skill, - And sacred silence, and those holy ways - Unutterable, untold by human heart. - But the infinite beauty that all eyes doth fill, - This none can learn! because its lovely rays - Are given by God's pure grace, and not by art. - - - V - - O passi sparsi, o pensier vaghi e pronti, - O tenace memoria, o fero ardore, - O possente desire, o debil core, - O occhi miei, occhi non già, ma fonti; - O fronde, onor delle famose fronti, - O sola insegna al gemino valore; - O faticosa vita, o dolce errore, - Che mi fate ir cercando piagge e monti; - O bel viso, ov'Amor insieme pose - Gli sproni e 'l fren, ond'e' mi punge e volve - Com'a lui piace, e calcitrar non vale; - O anime gentili ed amorose, - S'alcuna ha 'l mondo; e voi nude ombre e polve; - Deh restate a veder qual è 'l mio male. - - - V - - O wandering steps! O vague and busy dreams! - O changeless memory! O fierce desire! - O passion strong! heart weak with its own fire; - O eyes of mine! not eyes, but living streams; - O laurel boughs! whose lovely garland seems - The sole reward that glory's deeds require! - O haunted life! delusion sweet and dire, - That all my days from slothful rest redeems; - O beauteous face! where Love has treasured well - His whip and spur, the sluggish heart to move - At his least will; nor can it find relief. - O souls of love and passion! if ye dwell - Yet on this earth, and ye, great Shades of Love! - Linger, and see my passion and my grief. - - - VI - - I' vidi in terra angelici costumi - E celesti bellezze al mondo sole; - Tal che di rimembrar mi giova e dole; - Ché quant'io miro par sogni, ombre e fumi. - E vidi lagrimar que' duo bei lumi, - C'han fatto mille volle invidia al Sole; - Ed udii sospirando dir parole - Che farian gir i monti e stare i fiumi. - Amor, senno, valor, pietate e doglia - Facean piangendo un più dolce concento - D'ogni altro che nel mondo udir si soglia: - Ed era 'l cielo all'armonia sì 'ntento, - Che non si vedea 'n ramo mover foglia; - Tanta dolcezza avea pien l'aere e 'l vento. - - - VI - - I once beheld on earth celestial graces - And heavenly beauties scarce to mortals known, - Whose memory yields nor joy nor grief alone, - But all things else in cloud and dreams effaces. - I saw how tears had left their weary traces - Within those eyes that once the sun outshone, - I heard those lips, in low and plaintive moan, - Breathe words to stir the mountains from their places. - Love, wisdom, courage, tenderness, and truth - Made in their mourning strains more high and dear - Than ever wove soft sounds for mortal ear; - And heaven seemed listening in such saddest ruth - The very leaves upon the bough to soothe, - Such sweetness filled the blissful atmosphere. - - - VII - - Gli occhi di ch'io parlai sì caldamente, - E le braccia e le mani e i piedi e 'l viso - Che m'avean sì da me stesso diviso - E fatto singular dall'altra gente; - Le crespe chiome d'or puro lucente, - E 'l lampeggiar dell'angelico riso - Che solean far in terra un paradiso, - Poca polvere son, che nulla sente. - Ed io pur vivo; onde mi doglio e sdegno, - Rimaso senza 'l lume ch'amai tanto, - In gran fortuna e 'n disarmato legno. - Or sia qui fine al mio amoroso canto: - Secca è la vena dell'usato ingegno, - E la cetera mia rivolta in pianto. - - - VII - - Those eyes, 'neath which my passionate rapture rose, - The arms, hands, feet, the beauty that erewhile - Could my own soul from its own self beguile, - And in a separate world of dreams enclose, - The hair's bright tresses, full of golden glows, - And the soft lightning of the angelic smile - That changed this earth to some celestial isle,-- - Are now but dust, poor dust, that nothing knows. - And yet I live! Myself I grieve and scorn, - Left dark without the light I loved in vain, - Adrift in tempest on a bark forlorn; - Dead is the source of all my amorous strain, - Dry is the channel of my thoughts outworn, - And my sad harp can sound but notes of pain. - - - VIII - - Soleasi nel mio cor star bella e viva, - Com'alta donna in loco umile e basso: - Or son fatt'io per l'ultimo suo passo, - Non pur mortal ma morto; ed ella è diva. - L'alma d'ogni suo ben spogliata e priva, - Amor della sua luce ignudo e casso - Devrian della pietà romper un sasso: - Ma non è chi lor duol riconti o scriva; - Ché piangon dentro, ov'ogni orecchia è sorda, - Se non la mia, cui tanta doglia ingombra, - Ch'altro che sospirar, nulla m'avanza. - Veramente siam noi polvere ed ombra; - Veramente la voglia è cieca e 'ngorda; - Veramente fallace è la speranza. - - - VIII - - She ruled in beauty o'er this heart of mine, - A noble lady in a humble home, - And now her time for heavenly bliss has come, - 'Tis I am mortal proved, and she divine. - The soul that all its blessings must resign, - And love whose light no more on earth finds room - Might rend the rocks with pity for their doom, - Yet none their sorrows can in words enshrine; - They weep within my heart; no ears they find - Save mine alone, and I am crushed with care, - And naught remains to me save mournful breath. - Assuredly but dust and shade we are; - Assuredly desire is mad and blind; - Assuredly its hope but ends in death. - - - IX - - Levommi il mio pensier in parte ov'era - Quella ch'io cerco e non ritrovo in terra: - Ivi, fra lor che 'l terzo cerchio serra, - La rividi più bella e meno altera. - Per man mi prese e disse: in questa spera - Sarai ancor meco, se 'l desir non erra; - I' son colei che ti die' tanta guerra, - E compie' mia giornata innanzi sera. - Mio ben non cape in intelletto umano: - Te solo aspetto, e, quel che tanto amasti, - E laggiuso è rimaso, il mio bel velo. - Deh perchè tacque ed allargò la mano? - Ch'al suon de' detti sì pietosi e casti - Poco mancò ch'io non rimasi in cielo. - - - IX - - Dreams bore my fancy to that region where - She dwells whom here I seek, but cannot see. - 'Mid those who in the loftiest heaven be - I looked on her, less haughty and more fair. - She took my hand, she said, "Within this sphere, - If hope deceive not, thou shalt dwell with me: - I filled thy life with war's wild agony; - Mine own day closed ere evening could appear. - My bliss no human thought can understand; - I wait for thee alone, and that fair veil - Of beauty thou dost love shall yet retain." - Why was she silent then, why dropped my hand - Ere those delicious tones could quite avail - To bid my mortal soul in heaven remain? - - - X - - Dolci durezze e placide repulse, - Piene di casto amore e di pietate; - Leggiadri sdegni, che le mie infiammate - Voglie tempraro (or me n'accorgo) e 'nsulse; - Gentil parlar, in cui chiaro refulse - Con somma cortesia somma onestate; - Fior di virtù, fontana di beltate, - Ch'ogni basso pensier del cor m'avulse; - Divino sguardo, da far l'uom felice, - Or fiero in affrenar la mente ardita - A quel che giustamente si disdice, - Or presto a confortar mia frale vita; - Questo bel variar fu la radice - Di mia salute, che altramente era ita. - - - X - - Gentle severity, repulses mild, - Full of chaste love and pity sorrowing; - Graceful rebukes, that had the power to bring - Back to itself a heart by dreams beguiled; - A tender voice, whose accents undefiled - Held sweet restraints, all duty honoring; - The bloom of virtue; purity's clear spring - To cleanse away base thoughts and passions wild; - Divinest eyes to make a lover's bliss, - Whether to bridle in the wayward mind - Lest its wild wanderings should the pathway miss, - Or else its griefs to soothe, its wounds to bind; - This sweet completeness of thy life it is - Which saved my soul; no other peace I find. - - - XI - - Gli angeli eletti e l'anime beate - Cittadine del cielo, il primo giorno - Che Madonna passò, le fur intorno - Piene di maraviglia e di pietate. - Che luce è questa, e qual nova beltate? - Dicean tra lor; perch'abito sì adorno - Dal mondo errante a quest'alto soggiorno - Non salì mai in tutta questa etate. - Ella contenta aver cangiato albergo, - Si paragona pur coi più perfetti; - E parte ad or ad or si volge a tergo - Mirando s'io la seguo, e par ch'aspetti: - Ond'io voglie e pensier tutti al ciel ergo; - Perch'io l'odo pregar pur ch'i' m'affretti. - - - XI - - The holy angels and the spirits blest, - Celestial bands, upon that day serene - When first my love went by in heavenly sheen, - Came thronging, wondering at the gracious guest. - "What light is here, in what new beauty drest?" - They said among themselves; "for none has seen - Within this age arrive so fair a mien - From changing earth unto immortal rest." - And she, contented with her new-found bliss, - Ranks with the perfect in that upper sphere, - Yet ever and anon looks back on this, - To watch for me, as if for me she stayed. - So strive my thoughts, lest that high heaven I miss. - I hear her call, and must not be delayed. - - - XII - - Dicemi spesso il mio fidato speglio, - L'animo stanco e la cangiata scorza - E la scemata mia destrezza e forza; - Non ti nasconder più; tu se' pur veglio. - Obbedir a Natura in tutto è il meglio; - Ch'a contender con lei il tempo ne sforza. - Subito allor, com'acqua il foco ammorza, - D'un lungo e grave sonno mi risveglio: - E veggio ben che 'l nostro viver vola, - E ch'esser non si può più d'una volta; - E 'n mezzo 'l cor mi sona una parola - Di lei ch'è or dal suo bel nodo sciolta, - Ma ne' suoi giorni al mondo fu sì sola, - Ch'a tutte, s'i' non erro, fama ha tolta. - - - XII - - Oft by my faithful mirror I am told, - And by my mind outworn and altered brow, - My earthly powers impaired and weakened now,-- - "Deceive thyself no more, for thou art old!" - Who strives with Nature's laws is over-bold, - And Time to his commandment bids us bow. - Like fire that waves have quenched, I calmly vow - In life's long dream no more my sense to fold. - And while I think, our swift existence flies, - And none can live again earth's brief career,-- - Then in my deepest heart the voice replies - Of one who now has left this mortal sphere, - But walked alone through earthly destinies, - And of all women is to fame most dear. - - - XIII - - Vago augelletto che cantando vai, - Ovver piangendo il tuo tempo passato, - Vedendoti la notte e 'l verno a lato, - E 'l dì dopo le spalle e i mesi gai; - Se come i tuoi gravosi affanni sai, - Così sapessi il mio simile stato, - Verresti in grembo a questo sconsolato - A partir seco i dolorosi guai. - I' non so se le parti sarian pari; - Che quella cui tu piangi è forse in vita, - Di ch'a me Morte e 'l Ciel son tanto avari: - Ma la stagione e l'ora men gradita, - Col membrar de' dolci anni e degli amari, - A parlar teco con pietà m'invita. - - - XIII - - Sweet wandering bird that singest on thy way, - Or mournest yet the time for ever past, - Watching night come and spring receding fast, - Day's bliss behind thee and the seasons gay,-- - If thou my griefs against thine own couldst weigh, - Thou couldst not guess how long my sorrows last; - Yet thou mightst hide thee from the wintry blast - Within my breast, and thus my pains allay. - Yet may not all thy woes be named with mine, - Since she whom thou dost mourn may live, yet live, - But death and heaven still hold my spirit's bride; - And all those long past days of sad decline - With all the joys remembered years can give - Still bid me ask "Sweet bird! with me abide!" - - - XIV - - La gola e 'l sonno e l'oziose piume - Hanno del mondo ogni vertù sbandita, - Ond'è dal corso suo quasi smarrita - Nostra natura, vinta dal costume; - Ed è sì spento ogni benigno lume - Del ciel, per cui s'informa umana vita, - Che per cosa mirabile s'addita - Chi vuol far d'Elicona nascer fiume. - Qual vaghezza di lauro? qual di mirto? - Povera e 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. - - - XIV - - Lust and dull slumber and the lazy hours - Have well nigh banished virtue from mankind. - Hence have man's nature and his treacherous mind - Left their free course, enmeshed in sin's soft bowers. - The very light of heaven hath lost its powers - Mid fading ways our loftiest dreams to find; - Men jeer at him whose footsteps are inclined - Where Helicon from dewy fountains showers. - Who seeks the laurel? who the myrtle twines? - "Wisdom, thou goest a beggar and unclad," - So scoffs the crowd, intent on worthless gain. - Few are the hearts that prize the poet's lines: - Yet, friend, the more I hail thy spirit glad! - Let not the glory of thy purpose wane! - - - XV - - Voi ch'ascoltate in rime sparse il suono - Di quei sospiri ond'io nudriva il core - In sul mio primo giovenile errore, - Quand' era in parte altr'uom da quel ch'i' sono; - Del vario stile, in ch'io piango e ragiono - Fra le vane speranze e 'l van dolore, - Ove sia chi per prova intenda amore, - Spero trovar pietà, non che perdono. - Ma ben veggi' or, sì come al popol tutto - Favola fui gran tempo: onde sovente - Di me medesmo meco mi vergogno: - E del mio vaneggiar vergogna è 'l frutto, - E 'l pentirsi, e 'l conoscer chiaramente - Che quanto piace al mondo è breve sogno. - - - XV - - O ye who trace through scattered verse the sound - Of those long sighs wherewith I fed my heart - Amid youth's errors, when in greater part - That man unlike this present man was found; - For the mixed strain which here I do compound - Of empty hopes and pains that vainly start, - Whatever soul hath truly felt love's smart, - With pity and with pardon will abound. - But now I see full well how long I earned - All men's reproof; and oftentimes my soul - Lies crushed by its own grief; and it doth seem - For such misdeed shame is the fruitage whole, - And wild repentance and the knowledge learned - That worldly joy is still a short, short dream. - - - FOUR HUNDRED AND THIRTY COPIES - PRINTED AT THE RIVERSIDE PRESS - CAMBRIDGE, IN THE MONTH OF SEPTEMBER, - MDCCCCIII. NUMBER 426 - -[Illustration] - - - - -[Transcriber's Note: Below is a list of printer errors that have been -corrected in the Italian sonnets, by reference to the 1964 critical -edition of _Il Canzoniere_ edited by Gianfranco Contini, available at -Liber Liber, www.liberliber.it. The translator of this book probably -used as his source an edition in which spelling and punctuation were -somewhat modernized; these modernizations have not been altered in -this e-book. Spacing of elisions (such as "ch'ascolti") has been -normalized. The original book was printed almost entirely in italics, -which are not marked as such in this e-text. Printer errors in the -English portions of this book have been corrected without note. - - Sonnet Line Error Correction - II 10 a'udendo d'udendo - III 14 Che Ché - IV 13 che ché - VI 4 Che Ché - VI 12 si sì - VII 9 doglia doglio - VIII 9 Che Ché - -The sonnets in this book correspond to the following numbers in _Il -Canzoniere_: - - This book _Il Canzoniere_ - 1. 162 Lieti fiori - 2. 167 Quando Amor - 3. 227 Aura che quelle chiome - 4. 261 Qual donna attende - 5. 161 O passi sparsi - 6. 156 I' vidi in terra - 7. 292 Gli occhi di ch'io parlai - 8. 294 Soleasi nel mio cor - 9. 302 Levommi il mio pensier - 10. 351 Dolci durezze - 11. 346 Gli angeli eletti - 12. 361 Dicemi spesso - 13. 353 Vago augelletto - 14. 7 La gola e 'l sonno - 15. 1 Voi ch'ascoltate] - - - - - - - - -End of Project Gutenberg's Fifteen sonnets of Petrarch, by Francesco Petrarca - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FIFTEEN SONNETS OF PETRARCH *** - -***** This file should be named 50307-8.txt or 50307-8.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/5/0/3/0/50307/ - -Produced by Carlo Traverso, Linda Cantoni, and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net, in -celebration of Distributed Proofreaders' 15th Anniversary, -using images generously made available by The Internet -Archive. - - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions -will be renamed. - -Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no -one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation -(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without -permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or -re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included -with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org/license - - -Title: Fifteen sonnets of Petrarch - -Author: Francesco Petrarca - -Translator: Thomas Wentworth Higginson - -Release Date: October 25, 2015 [EBook #50307] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FIFTEEN SONNETS OF PETRARCH *** - - - - -Produced by Carlo Traverso, Linda Cantoni, and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net, in -celebration of Distributed Proofreaders' 15th Anniversary, -using images generously made available by The Internet -Archive. - - - - - - -</pre> - - -<div class="notes"> -<p><i>Transcriber’s Note:</i> Printer errors in the Italian sonnets are noted in the -<a href="#ERRATA">Transcriber’s Note</a> at the -end of this file, along with a list of the corresponding sonnet -numbers in <i>Il Canzoniere</i>.</p> -</div> - -<p class="centertbp" style="font-weight: bold"><a href="#INTRODUCTION_1">INTRODUCTION</a><br /> -<a href="#SONNETS">SONNETS</a></p> - - -<p class="centertbp"> -<img src="images/title.jpg" width="454" height="800" alt="title page" title="title page" /> -</p> - -<div class="bbox"> -<h1>FIFTEEN<br /> -SONNETS OF<br /> -PETRARCH</h1> - -<p class="center lg"> -<b>SELECTED AND TRANSLATED BY<br /> -THOMAS WENTWORTH HIGGINSON<br /> -PUBLISHED BY HOUGHTON MIFFLIN<br /> -& COMPANY BOSTON AND NEW YORK<br /> -MDCCCCIII</b> -</p> - -<hr class="short" /> - -<p class="centerbp sm"> -COPYRIGHT 1900 AND 1903<br /> -BY THOMAS WENTWORTH HIGGINSON<br /> -ALL RIGHTS RESERVED -</p> -</div> - -<hr /> - -<h2><a id="INTRODUCTION_1"></a>INTRODUCTION</h2> - -<hr /> - -<h3><a name="NOTE" id="NOTE">NOTE</a></h3> - - -<p><span class="smcap">This</span> <a href="#INTRODUCTION">introduction</a> is based essentially upon a paper ‘Sunshine and -Petrarch’ which originally included most of the sonnets in this -volume. It was written at Newport, R.I., where the translator was -then residing.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_v" id="Page_v">-v-</a></span></p> - - - - -<h3><a name="INTRODUCTION" id="INTRODUCTION">INTRODUCTION</a></h3> - -<div> -<img class="drop-cap" src="images/decocapn.jpg" width="141" height="156" alt="decorative N" title="decorative N" /> -</div> - -<p class="drop-cap"><span class="smcap">Near</span> my summer home there is a little cove or landing by the bay, -where nothing larger than a boat can ever anchor. I sit above it -now, upon the steep bank, knee-deep in buttercups, and amid grass so -lush and green that it seems to ripple and flow instead of waving. -Below lies a tiny beach, strewn with a few bits of driftwood and some -purple shells, and so sheltered by projecting walls that its wavelets -plash but lightly. A little farther out the sea breaks more roughly -over submerged rocks, and the waves lift themselves, before breaking, -in an indescribable way, as if each gave a glimpse through a -translucent window, beyond which all ocean’s depths might be clearly -seen, could one but hit the proper angle of vision. On the right side -of my retreat a high wall limits the view, while close upon the left -the crumbling parapet of Fort Greene stands out into the foreground, -its verdant scarp so relieved against the blue water that each inward -bound schooner seems to sail into a cave of grass. In the middle -distance is a white lighthouse, and beyond<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_vi" id="Page_vi">-vi-</a></span> lie the round tower of -old Fort Louis, and the soft low walls of Conanicut.</p> - -<p>Behind me an oriole chirrups in triumph amid the birch-trees which -wave around the house of the haunted window; before me a kingfisher -pauses and waits, and a darting blackbird shows the scarlet on his -wings. Sloops and schooners constantly come and go, careening in the -wind, their white sails taking, if remote enough, a vague blue mantle -from the delicate air. Sailboats glide in the distance,—each a mere -white wing of canvas,—or coming nearer, and glancing suddenly into -the cove, are put as suddenly on the other tack, and almost in an -instant seem far away. There is to-day such a live sparkle on the -water, such a luminous freshness on the grass, that it seems, as is -often the case in early June, as if all history were a dream, and the -whole earth were but the creation of a summer’s day.</p> - -<p>If Petrarch still knows and feels the consummate beauty of these -earthly things, it may seem to him some repayment for the sorrows of -a lifetime that one reader, after all this lapse of years, should -choose his sonnets to match this grass, these blossoms, and the -soft lapse of these blue waves. Yet any longer or more<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_vii" id="Page_vii">-vii-</a></span> continuous -poem would be out of place to-day. I fancy that this narrow cove -prescribes the proper limits of a sonnet; and when I count the lines -of ripple within yonder projecting wall, there proves to be room for -just fourteen. Nature meets our whims with such little fitnesses. -The words which build these delicate structures of Petrarch’s are as -soft and fine and close-textured as the sands upon this tiny beach, -and their monotone, if such it be, is the monotone of the neighboring -ocean. Is it not possible, by bringing such a book into the open air, -to separate it from the grimness of commentators, and bring it back -to life and light and Italy? The beautiful earth is the same as when -this poetry and passion were new; there is the same sunlight, the -same blue water and green grass; yonder pleasure-boat might bear, for -aught we know, the friends and lovers of five centuries ago; Petrarch -and Laura might be there, with Boccaccio and Fiammetta as comrades, -and with Chaucer as their stranger guest. It bears, at any rate, if I -know its voyagers, eyes as lustrous, voices as sweet. With the world -thus young, beauty eternal, fancy free, why should these delicious -Italian pages exist but to be tortured into grammatical examples?<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_viii" id="Page_viii">-viii-</a></span> -Is there no reward to be imagined for a delightful book that can -match Browning’s fantastic burial of a tedious one? When it has -sufficiently basked in sunshine, and been cooled in pure salt air, -when it has bathed in heaped clover, and been scented, page by page, -with melilot, cannot its beauty once more blossom, and its buried -loves revive?</p> - -<p>Emboldened by such influences, at least let me translate a sonnet -(<span lang="it" xml:lang="it"><a href="#Page_2">Lieti fiori e felici</a></span>), and see if anything is left after the sweet -Italian syllables are gone. Before this continent was discovered, -before English literature existed, when Chaucer was a child these -words were written. Yet they are to-day as fresh and perfect as these -laburnum blossoms that droop above my head. And as the variable and -uncertain air comes freighted with clover-scent from yonder field, so -floats through these long centuries a breath of fragrance, the memory -of Laura.</p> - -<p>Goethe compared translators to carriers, who convey good wine to -market, though it gets unaccountably watered by the way. The more -one praises a poem, the more absurd becomes one’s position, perhaps, -in trying to translate it. If it is so admirable,—is the natural -inquiry,—why not let it alone? It is<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_ix" id="Page_ix">-ix-</a></span> a doubtful blessing to -the human race, that the instinct of translation still prevails, -stronger than reason; and after one has once yielded to it, then -each untranslated favorite is like the trees round a backwoodsman’s -clearing, each of which stands, a silent defiance, until he has cut -it down. Let us try the axe again. This is to Laura singing -(<span lang="it" xml:lang="it"><a href="#Page_4">Quando Amor</a></span>).</p> - -<p>As I look across the bay, there is seen resting over all the hills, -and even upon every distant sail, an enchanted veil of palest blue, -that seems woven out of the very souls of happy days,—a bridal veil, -with which the sunshine weds this soft landscape in summer. Such -and so indescribable is the atmospheric film that hangs over these -poems of Petrarch’s; there is a delicate haze about the words, that -vanishes when you touch them, and reappears as you recede. How it -clings, for instance, round this sonnet (<span lang="it" xml:lang="it"><a href="#Page_6">Aura che quelle chiome</a></span>)!</p> - -<p>Consider also the pure and reverential tenderness of one like this -(<span lang="it" xml:lang="it"><a href="#Page_8">Qual donna attende</a></span>). A companion sonnet, on the other hand -(<span lang="it" xml:lang="it"><a href="#Page_10">O passi sparsi</a></span>), seems rather to be of the Shakespearean type; the -successive phrases set sail, one by one, like a yacht squadron; each -spreads its graceful wings and glides<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_x" id="Page_x">-x-</a></span> away. It is hard to handle -this white canvas without soiling. Macgregor, in the only version of -this sonnet which I have seen, abandons all attempt at rhyme; but to -follow the strict order of the original in this respect is a part -of the pleasant problem which one cannot bear to forgo. And there -seems a kind of deity who presides over this union of languages, and -who sometimes silently lays the words in order, after all one’s poor -attempts have failed.</p> - -<p>Yonder flies a kingfisher, and pauses, fluttering like a butterfly -in the air, then dives toward a fish, and, failing, perches on the -projecting wall. Doves from neighboring dove-cots alight on the -parapet of the fort, fearless of the quiet cattle who find there a -breezy pasture. These doves, in taking flight, do not rise from the -ground at once, but, edging themselves closer to the brink, with a -caution almost ludicrous in such airy things, thrust -themselves upon the breeze with a shy little hop, and -at the next moment are securely on the wing.</p> - -<p>How the abundant sunlight inundates everything! The great clumps of -grass and clover are imbedded in it to the roots; it flows in among -their stalks, like water; the lilac-bushes bask in it<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_xi" id="Page_xi">-xi-</a></span> eagerly; the -topmost leaves of the birches are burnished. A vessel sails by with -plash and roar, and all the white spray along her side is sparkling -with sunlight. Yet there is sorrow in the world, and it reached -Petrarch even before Laura died,—when it reached her. One exquisite -sonnet (<span lang="it" xml:lang="it"><a href="#Page_12">I’ vidi in terra</a></span>) shows this to have been true.</p> - -<p>These sonnets are in Petrarch’s earlier manner; but the death of -Laura brought a change. Look at yonder schooner coming down the bay -straight toward us; she is hauled close to the wind, her jib is -white in the sunlight, her larger sails are touched with the same -snowy lustre, and all the swelling canvas is rounded into such lines -of beauty as scarcely anything else in the world—hardly even the -perfect outlines of the human form—can give. Now she comes up into -the wind, and goes about with a strong flapping of her sails, smiting -on the ear at a half-mile’s distance; then she glides off on the -other tack, showing the shadowed side of her sails, until she reaches -the distant zone of haze. So change the sonnets after Laura’s death, -growing shadowy as they recede, until the very last -(<span lang="it" xml:lang="it"><a href="#Page_14">Gli occhi di ch’io parlai</a></span>) -seems to merge itself in the blue distance.</p> - -<hr class="med" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_xii" id="Page_xii">-xii-</a></span></p> - -<p>“And yet I live!” (<span lang="it" xml:lang="it">Ed io pur vivo</span>) What a pause is implied before -these words with which the closing sestet of this sonnet begins! the -drawing of a long breathy immeasurably long; like that vast interval -of heart-beats which precedes Shakespeare’s ‘Since Cleopatra died.’ -I can think of no other passage in literature that has in it the -same wide spaces of emotion. Another sonnet -(<span lang="it" xml:lang="it"><a href="#Page_16">Soleasi nel mio cor</a></span>) -which is still more retrospective, seems to me the most stately and -concentrated in the whole volume. It is the sublimity of a despair -not to be relieved by utterance. In a later strain -(<span lang="it" xml:lang="it"><a href="#Page_18">Levommi il mio pensier</a></span>) -he rises to that dream which is more than earth’s realities.</p> - -<p>It vindicates the emphatic reality and personality of Petrarch’s -love, after all, that when from these heights of vision he surveys -and resurveys his life’s long dream, it becomes to him more and -more definite, as well as more poetic, and is farther and farther -from a merely vague sentimentalism. In his later sonnets, Laura -grows more distinctly individual to us; her traits show themselves -as more characteristic, her temperament more intelligible, her -precise influence upon Petrarch clearer. What delicate<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_xiii" id="Page_xiii">-xiii-</a></span> accuracy of -delineation is seen, for instance, in the sonnet -(<span lang="it" xml:lang="it"><a href="#Page_20">Dolci durezze</a></span>)! In -the sonnet (<span lang="it" xml:lang="it"><a href="#Page_22">Gli angeli eletti</a></span>) visions multiply upon visions. Would -that one could transfer into English the delicious way in which the -sweet Italian rhymes recur and surround and seem to embrace each -other, and are woven and unwoven and interwoven, like the heavenly -hosts that gathered around Laura.</p> - -<p>Petrarch’s odes and sonnets are but parts of one symphony, leading -us through a passion strengthened by years and only purified by -death, until at last the graceful lay becomes an anthem and a ‘<span lang="la" xml:lang="la">Nunc -dimittis</span>.’ In the closing sonnets Petrarch withdraws from the world, -and they seem like voices from a cloister, growing more and more -solemn till the door is closed. This is one of the last -(<span lang="it" xml:lang="it"><a href="#Page_24">Dicemi spesso</a></span>). -How true is its concluding line! Who can wonder that women -prize beauty, and are intoxicated by their own fascinations, when -these fragile gifts are yet strong enough to outlast all the memories -of statesmanship and war? Next to the immortality of genius is that -which genius may confer upon the object of its love. Laura, while -she lived, was simply one of a hundred or a thousand beautiful and -gracious<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_xiv" id="Page_xiv">-xiv-</a></span> Italian women; she had her loves and aversions, joys and -griefs; she cared dutifully for her household, and embroidered the -veil which Petrarch loved; her memory appeared as fleeting and -unsubstantial as that of woven tissue. After five centuries we find -that no armor of that iron age was so enduring. The kings whom she -honored, the popes whom she revered are dust, and their memory is -dust, but literature is still fragrant with her name. An impression -which has endured so long is ineffaceable; it is an earthly -immortality.</p> - -<p>“Time is the chariot of all ages to carry men away, and beauty cannot -bribe this charioteer.” Thus wrote Petrarch in his Latin essays; but -his love had wealth that proved resistless, and for Laura the chariot -stayed.</p> - - -<hr /> - -<h2><a name="SONNETS" id="SONNETS">SONNETS</a></h2> - -<hr /> - - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2">-2-</a></span></p> - -<h3>I</h3> - -<table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="0" summary=""> -<tr> -<td><span lang="it" xml:lang="it"><span class="smcap">Lieti</span> fiori e felici, e ben nate erbe,<br /> -Che Madonna, pensando, premer sole;<br /> -Piaggia ch’ascolti sue dolci parole,<br /> -E del bel piede alcun vestigio serbe;<br /> -Schietti arboscelli, e verdi frondi acerbe;<br /> -Amorosette e pallide viole;<br /> -Ombrose selve, ove percote il Sole,<br /> -Che vi fa co’ suoi raggi alte e superbe;<br /> -O soave contrada, o puro fiume,<br /> -Che bagni ’l suo bel viso e gli occhi chiari,<br /> -E prendi qualità dal vivo lume;<br /> -Quanto v’invidio gli atti onesti e cari!<br /> -Non fia in voi scoglio omai che per costume<br /> -D’arder con la mia fiamma non impari.</span></td> -</tr> -</table> - -<p class="center"> -<img src="images/dots.jpg" width="36" height="33" alt="dots" title="dots" /> -</p> - - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">-3-</a></span></p> - -<h3>I</h3> - -<table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="0" summary=""> -<tr> -<td><span class="smcap">O joyous</span>, blossoming, ever-blessed flowers!<br /> -’Mid which my pensive queen her footstep sets;<br /> -O plain, that hold’st her words for amulets<br /> -And keep’st her footsteps in thy leafy bowers!<br /> -O trees, with earliest green of springtime hours,<br /> -And all spring’s pale and tender violets!<br /> -O grove, so dark the proud sun only lets<br /> -His blithe rays gild the outskirts of thy towers!<br /> -O pleasant country-side! O limpid stream,<br /> -That mirrorest her sweet face, her eyes so clear,<br /> -And of their living light canst catch the beam!<br /> -I envy thee her presence pure and dear.<br /> -There is no rock so senseless but I deem<br /> -It burns with passion that to mine is near.</td> -</tr> -</table> - -<p class="center"> -<img src="images/dots.jpg" width="36" height="33" alt="dots" title="dots" /> -</p> - - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">-4-</a></span></p> - -<h3>II</h3> - -<table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="0" summary=""> -<tr> -<td><span lang="it" xml:lang="it"><span class="smcap">Quando</span> Amor i begli occhi a terra inchina<br /> -E i vaghi spirti in un sospiro accoglie<br /> -Con le sue mani, e poi in voce gli scioglie<br /> -Chiara, soave, angelica, divina;<br /> -Sento far del mio cor dolce rapina,<br /> -E sì dentro cangiar pensieri e voglie,<br /> -Ch’i’ dico: or fien di me l’ultime spoglie,<br /> -Se ’l Ciel sì onesta morte mi destina.<br /> -Ma ’l suon, che di dolcezza i sensi lega,<br /> -Col gran desir <span class="err" title="Transcriber's Note: corrected error 'a'udendo'">d’udendo</span> esser beata,<br /> -L’anima, al dipartir presta, raffrena.<br /> -Così mi vivo, e così avvolge e spiega<br /> -Lo stame della vita che m’è data,<br /> -Questa sola fra noi del ciel sirena.</span></td> -</tr> -</table> - -<p class="center"> -<img src="images/dots.jpg" width="36" height="33" alt="dots" title="dots" /> -</p> - - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">-5-</a></span></p> - -<h3>II</h3> - -<table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="0" summary=""> -<tr> -<td><span class="smcap">When</span> Love doth those sweet eyes to earth incline,<br /> -And weaves those wandering notes into a sigh<br /> -With his own touch, and leads a minstrelsy<br /> -Clear-voiced and pure, angelic and divine,—<br /> -He makes sweet havoc in this heart of mine,<br /> -And to my thoughts brings transformation high,<br /> -So that I say, “My time has come to die,<br /> -If fate so blest a death for me design.”<br /> -But to my soul, thus steeped in joy, the sound<br /> -Brings such a wish to keep that present heaven,<br /> -It holds my spirit back to earth as well.<br /> -And thus I live: and thus is loosed and wound<br /> -The thread of life which unto me was given<br /> -By this sole Siren who with us doth dwell.</td> -</tr> -</table> - -<p class="center"> -<img src="images/dots.jpg" width="36" height="33" alt="dots" title="dots" /> -</p> - - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">-6-</a></span></p> - -<h3>III</h3> - -<table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="0" summary=""> -<tr> -<td><span lang="it" xml:lang="it"><span class="smcap">Aura</span> che quelle chiome bionde e crespe<br /> -Circondi e movi, e se’ mossa da loro<br /> -Soavemente, e spargi quel dolce oro,<br /> -E poi ’l raccogli e ’n bei nodi ’l rincrespe;<br /> -Tu stai negli occhi ond’amorose vespe<br /> -Mi pungon sì, che ’nfin qua il sento e ploro;<br /> -E vacillando cerco il mio tesoro,<br /> -Com’animal che spesso adombre e ’ncespe:<br /> -Ch’or mel par ritrovar, ed or m’accorgo<br /> -Ch’i’ ne son lunge; or mi sollevo, or caggio:<br /> -Ch’or quel ch’i’ bramo, or quel ch’è vero, scorgo.<br /> -Aer felice, col bel vivo raggio<br /> -Rimanti. E tu, corrente e chiaro gorgo,<br /> -<span class="err" title="Transcriber's Note: corrected error 'Che'">Ché</span> non poss’io cangiar teco viaggio?</span></td> -</tr> -</table> - -<p class="center"> -<img src="images/dots.jpg" width="36" height="33" alt="dots" title="dots" /> -</p> - - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">-7-</a></span></p> - -<h3>III</h3> - -<table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="0" summary=""> -<tr> -<td><span class="smcap">Sweet</span> air, that circlest round those radiant tresses,<br /> -And floatest, mingled with them, fold on fold,<br /> -Deliciously, and scatterest that fine gold,<br /> -Then twinest it again, my heart’s dear jesses;<br /> -Thou lingerest on those eyes, whose beauty presses<br /> -Stings in my heart that all its life exhaust,<br /> -Till I go wandering round my treasure lost,<br /> -Like some scared creature whom the night distresses.<br /> -I seem to find her now, and now perceive<br /> -How far away she is; now rise, now fall;<br /> -Now what I wish, now what is true, believe.<br /> -O happy air! since joys enrich thee all,<br /> -Rest thee; and thou, O stream too bright to grieve!<br /> -Why can I not float with thee at thy call?</td> -</tr> -</table> - -<p class="center"> -<img src="images/dots.jpg" width="36" height="33" alt="dots" title="dots" /> -</p> - - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">-8-</a></span></p> - -<h3>IV</h3> - -<table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="0" summary=""> -<tr> -<td><span lang="it" xml:lang="it"><span class="smcap">Qual</span> donna attende a gloriosa fama<br /> -Di senno, di valor, di cortesia,<br /> -Miri fiso negli occhi a quella mia<br /> -Nemica, che mia donna il mondo chiama.<br /> -Come s’acquista onor, come Dio s’ama,<br /> -Com’è giunta onestà con leggiadria,<br /> -Ivi s’impara, e qual è dritta via<br /> -Di gir al Ciel, che lei aspetta e brama.<br /> -Ivi ’l parlar che nullo stile agguaglia,<br /> -E ’l bel tacere, e quei santi costumi<br /> -Ch’ingegno uman non può spiegar in carte.<br /> -L’infinita bellezza, ch’altrui abbaglia,<br /> -Non vi s’impara; <span class="err" title="Transcriber's Note: corrected error 'che'">ché</span> quei dolci lumi<br /> -S’acquistan per ventura e non per arte.</span></td> -</tr> -</table> - -<p class="center"> -<img src="images/dots.jpg" width="36" height="33" alt="dots" title="dots" /> -</p> - - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">-9-</a></span></p> - -<h3>IV</h3> - -<table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="0" summary=""> -<tr> -<td><span class="smcap">Doth</span> any maiden seek the glorious fame<br /> -Of chastity, of strength, of courtesy?<br /> -Gaze in the eyes of that sweet enemy<br /> -Whom all the world doth as my lady name!<br /> -How honor grows, and pure devotion’s flame,<br /> -How truth is joined with graceful dignity,<br /> -There thou mayst learn, and what the path may be<br /> -To that high heaven which doth her spirit claim;<br /> -There learn that speech, beyond all poet’s skill,<br /> -And sacred silence, and those holy ways<br /> -Unutterable, untold by human heart.<br /> -But the infinite beauty that all eyes doth fill,<br /> -This none can learn! because its lovely rays<br /> -Are given by God’s pure grace, and not by art.</td> -</tr> -</table> - -<p class="center"> -<img src="images/dots.jpg" width="36" height="33" alt="dots" title="dots" /> -</p> - - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">-10-</a></span></p> - -<h3>V</h3> - -<table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="0" summary=""> -<tr> -<td><span lang="it" xml:lang="it"><span class="smcap">O passi</span> sparsi, o pensier vaghi e pronti,<br /> -O tenace memoria, o fero ardore,<br /> -O possente desire, o debil core,<br /> -O occhi miei, occhi non già, ma fonti;<br /> -O fronde, onor delle famose fronti,<br /> -O sola insegna al gemino valore;<br /> -O faticosa vita, o dolce errore,<br /> -Che mi fate ir cercando piagge e monti;<br /> -O bel viso, ov’Amor insieme pose<br /> -Gli sproni e ’l fren, ond’e’ mi punge e volve<br /> -Com’a lui piace, e calcitrar non vale;<br /> -O anime gentili ed amorose,<br /> -S’alcuna ha ’l mondo; e voi nude ombre e polve;<br /> -Deh restate a veder qual è ’l mio male.</span></td> -</tr> -</table> - -<p class="center"> -<img src="images/dots.jpg" width="36" height="33" alt="dots" title="dots" /> -</p> - - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">-11-</a></span></p> - -<h3>V</h3> - -<table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="0" summary=""> -<tr> -<td><span class="smcap">O wandering</span> steps! O vague and busy dreams!<br /> -O changeless memory! O fierce desire!<br /> -O passion strong! heart weak with its own fire;<br /> -O eyes of mine! not eyes, but living streams;<br /> -O laurel boughs! whose lovely garland seems<br /> -The sole reward that glory’s deeds require!<br /> -O haunted life! delusion sweet and dire,<br /> -That all my days from slothful rest redeems;<br /> -O beauteous face! where Love has treasured well<br /> -His whip and spur, the sluggish heart to move<br /> -At his least will; nor can it find relief.<br /> -O souls of love and passion! if ye dwell<br /> -Yet on this earth, and ye, great Shades of Love!<br /> -Linger, and see my passion and my grief.</td> -</tr> -</table> - -<p class="center"> -<img src="images/dots.jpg" width="36" height="33" alt="dots" title="dots" /> -</p> - - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">-12-</a></span></p> - -<h3>VI</h3> - -<table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="0" summary=""> -<tr> -<td><span lang="it" xml:lang="it"><span class="smcap">I’ vidi</span> in terra angelici costumi<br /> -E celesti bellezze al mondo sole;<br /> -Tal che di rimembrar mi giova e dole;<br /> -<span class="err" title="Transcriber's Note: corrected error 'Che'">Ché</span> quant’io miro par sogni, ombre e fumi.<br /> -E vidi lagrimar que’ duo bei lumi,<br /> -C’han fatto mille volle invidia al Sole;<br /> -Ed udii sospirando dir parole<br /> -Che farian gir i monti e stare i fiumi.<br /> -Amor, senno, valor, pietate e doglia<br /> -Facean piangendo un più dolce concento<br /> -D’ogni altro che nel mondo udir si soglia:<br /> -Ed era ’l cielo all’armonia <span class="err" title="Transcriber's Note: corrected error 'si'">sì</span> ’ntento,<br /> -Che non si vedea ’n ramo mover foglia;<br /> -Tanta dolcezza avea pien l’aere e ’l vento.</span></td> -</tr> -</table> - -<p class="center"> -<img src="images/dots.jpg" width="36" height="33" alt="dots" title="dots" /> -</p> - - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">-13-</a></span></p> - -<h3>VI</h3> - -<table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="0" summary=""> -<tr> -<td><span class="smcap">I once</span> beheld on earth celestial graces<br /> -And heavenly beauties scarce to mortals known,<br /> -Whose memory yields nor joy nor grief alone,<br /> -But all things else in cloud and dreams effaces.<br /> -I saw how tears had left their weary traces<br /> -Within those eyes that once the sun outshone,<br /> -I heard those lips, in low and plaintive moan,<br /> -Breathe words to stir the mountains from their places.<br /> -Love, wisdom, courage, tenderness, and truth<br /> -Made in their mourning strains more high and dear<br /> -Than ever wove soft sounds for mortal ear;<br /> -And heaven seemed listening in such saddest ruth<br /> -The very leaves upon the bough to soothe,<br /> -Such sweetness filled the blissful atmosphere.</td> -</tr> -</table> - -<p class="center"> -<img src="images/dots.jpg" width="36" height="33" alt="dots" title="dots" /> -</p> - - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">-14-</a></span></p> - -<h3>VII</h3> - -<table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="0" summary=""> -<tr> -<td><span lang="it" xml:lang="it"><span class="smcap">Gli</span> occhi di ch’io parlai sì caldamente,<br /> -E le braccia e le mani e i piedi e ’l viso<br /> -Che m’avean sì da me stesso diviso<br /> -E fatto singular dall’altra gente;<br /> -Le crespe chiome d’or puro lucente,<br /> -E ’l lampeggiar dell’angelico riso<br /> -Che solean far in terra un paradiso,<br /> -Poca polvere son, che nulla sente.<br /> -Ed io pur vivo; onde mi <span class="err" title="Transcriber's Note: corrected error 'doglia'">doglio</span> e sdegno,<br /> -Rimaso senza ’l lume ch’amai tanto,<br /> -In gran fortuna e ’n disarmato legno.<br /> -Or sia qui fine al mio amoroso canto:<br /> -Secca è la vena dell’usato ingegno,<br /> -E la cetera mia rivolta in pianto.</span></td> -</tr> -</table> - -<p class="center"> -<img src="images/dots.jpg" width="36" height="33" alt="dots" title="dots" /> -</p> - - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">-15-</a></span></p> - -<h3>VII</h3> - -<table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="0" summary=""> -<tr> -<td><span class="smcap">Those</span> eyes, ’neath which my passionate rapture rose,<br /> -The arms, hands, feet, the beauty that erewhile<br /> -Could my own soul from its own self beguile,<br /> -And in a separate world of dreams enclose,<br /> -The hair’s bright tresses, full of golden glows,<br /> -And the soft lightning of the angelic smile<br /> -That changed this earth to some celestial isle,—<br /> -Are now but dust, poor dust, that nothing knows.<br /> -And yet I live! Myself I grieve and scorn,<br /> -Left dark without the light I loved in vain,<br /> -Adrift in tempest on a bark forlorn;<br /> -Dead is the source of all my amorous strain,<br /> -Dry is the channel of my thoughts outworn,<br /> -And my sad harp can sound but notes of pain.</td> -</tr> -</table> - -<p class="center"> -<img src="images/dots.jpg" width="36" height="33" alt="dots" title="dots" /> -</p> - - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">-16-</a></span></p> - -<h3>VIII</h3> - -<table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="0" summary=""> -<tr> -<td><span lang="it" xml:lang="it"><span class="smcap">Soleasi</span> nel mio cor star bella e viva,<br /> -Com’alta donna in loco umile e basso:<br /> -Or son fatt’io per l’ultimo suo passo,<br /> -Non pur mortal ma morto; ed ella è diva.<br /> -L’alma d’ogni suo ben spogliata e priva,<br /> -Amor della sua luce ignudo e casso<br /> -Devrian della pietà romper un sasso:<br /> -Ma non è chi lor duol riconti o scriva;<br /> -<span class="err" title="Transcriber's Note: corrected error 'Che'">Ché</span> piangon dentro, ov’ogni orecchia è sorda,<br /> -Se non la mia, cui tanta doglia ingombra,<br /> -Ch’altro che sospirar, nulla m’avanza.<br /> -Veramente siam noi polvere ed ombra;<br /> -Veramente la voglia è cieca e ’ngorda;<br /> -Veramente fallace è la speranza.</span></td> -</tr> -</table> - -<p class="center"> -<img src="images/dots.jpg" width="36" height="33" alt="dots" title="dots" /> -</p> - - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">-17-</a></span></p> - -<h3>VIII</h3> - -<table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="0" summary=""> -<tr> -<td><span class="smcap">She</span> ruled in beauty o’er this heart of mine,<br /> -A noble lady in a humble home,<br /> -And now her time for heavenly bliss has come,<br /> -’Tis I am mortal proved, and she divine.<br /> -The soul that all its blessings must resign,<br /> -And love whose light no more on earth finds room<br /> -Might rend the rocks with pity for their doom,<br /> -Yet none their sorrows can in words enshrine;<br /> -They weep within my heart; no ears they find<br /> -Save mine alone, and I am crushed with care,<br /> -And naught remains to me save mournful breath.<br /> -Assuredly but dust and shade we are;<br /> -Assuredly desire is mad and blind;<br /> -Assuredly its hope but ends in death.</td> -</tr> -</table> - -<p class="center"> -<img src="images/dots.jpg" width="36" height="33" alt="dots" title="dots" /> -</p> - - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">-18-</a></span></p> - -<h3>IX</h3> - -<table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="0" summary=""> -<tr> -<td><span lang="it" xml:lang="it"><span class="smcap">Levommi</span> il mio pensier in parte ov’era<br /> -Quella ch’io cerco e non ritrovo in terra:<br /> -Ivi, fra lor che ’l terzo cerchio serra,<br /> -La rividi più bella e meno altera.<br /> -Per man mi prese e disse: in questa spera<br /> -Sarai ancor meco, se ’l desir non erra;<br /> -I’ son colei che ti die’ tanta guerra,<br /> -E compie’ mia giornata innanzi sera.<br /> -Mio ben non cape in intelletto umano:<br /> -Te solo aspetto, e, quel che tanto amasti,<br /> -E laggiuso è rimaso, il mio bel velo.<br /> -Deh perchè tacque ed allargò la mano?<br /> -Ch’al suon de’ detti sì pietosi e casti<br /> -Poco mancò ch’io non rimasi in cielo.</span></td> -</tr> -</table> - -<p class="center"> -<img src="images/dots.jpg" width="36" height="33" alt="dots" title="dots" /> -</p> - - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">-19-</a></span></p> - -<h3>IX</h3> - -<table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="0" summary=""> -<tr> -<td><span class="smcap">Dreams</span> bore my fancy to that region where<br /> -She dwells whom here I seek, but cannot see.<br /> -’Mid those who in the loftiest heaven be<br /> -I looked on her, less haughty and more fair.<br /> -She took my hand, she said, “Within this sphere,<br /> -If hope deceive not, thou shalt dwell with me:<br /> -I filled thy life with war’s wild agony;<br /> -Mine own day closed ere evening could appear.<br /> -My bliss no human thought can understand;<br /> -I wait for thee alone, and that fair veil<br /> -Of beauty thou dost love shall yet retain.”<br /> -Why was she silent then, why dropped my hand<br /> -Ere those delicious tones could quite avail<br /> -To bid my mortal soul in heaven remain?</td> -</tr> -</table> - -<p class="center"> -<img src="images/dots.jpg" width="36" height="33" alt="dots" title="dots" /> -</p> - - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">-20-</a></span></p> - -<h3>X</h3> - -<table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="0" summary=""> -<tr> -<td><span lang="it" xml:lang="it"><span class="smcap">Dolci</span> durezze e placide repulse,<br /> -Piene di casto amore e di pietate;<br /> -Leggiadri sdegni, che le mie infiammate<br /> -Voglie tempraro (or me n’accorgo) e ’nsulse;<br /> -Gentil parlar, in cui chiaro refulse<br /> -Con somma cortesia somma onestate;<br /> -Fior di virtù, fontana di beltate,<br /> -Ch’ogni basso pensier del cor m’avulse;<br /> -Divino sguardo, da far l’uom felice,<br /> -Or fiero in affrenar la mente ardita<br /> -A quel che giustamente si disdice,<br /> -Or presto a confortar mia frale vita;<br /> -Questo bel variar fu la radice<br /> -Di mia salute, che altramente era ita.</span></td> -</tr> -</table> - -<p class="center"> -<img src="images/dots.jpg" width="36" height="33" alt="dots" title="dots" /> -</p> - - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">-21-</a></span></p> - -<h3>X</h3> - -<table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="0" summary=""> -<tr> -<td><span class="smcap">Gentle</span> severity, repulses mild,<br /> -Full of chaste love and pity sorrowing;<br /> -Graceful rebukes, that had the power to bring<br /> -Back to itself a heart by dreams beguiled;<br /> -A tender voice, whose accents undefiled<br /> -Held sweet restraints, all duty honoring;<br /> -The bloom of virtue; purity’s clear spring<br /> -To cleanse away base thoughts and passions wild;<br /> -Divinest eyes to make a lover’s bliss,<br /> -Whether to bridle in the wayward mind<br /> -Lest its wild wanderings should the pathway miss,<br /> -Or else its griefs to soothe, its wounds to bind;<br /> -This sweet completeness of thy life it is<br /> -Which saved my soul; no other peace I find.</td> -</tr> -</table> - -<p class="center"> -<img src="images/dots.jpg" width="36" height="33" alt="dots" title="dots" /> -</p> - - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">-22-</a></span></p> - -<h3>XI</h3> - -<table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="0" summary=""> -<tr> -<td><span lang="it" xml:lang="it"><span class="smcap">Gli</span> angeli eletti e l’anime beate<br /> -Cittadine del cielo, il primo giorno<br /> -Che Madonna passò, le fur intorno<br /> -Piene di maraviglia e di pietate.<br /> -Che luce è questa, e qual nova beltate?<br /> -Dicean tra lor; perch’abito sì adorno<br /> -Dal mondo errante a quest’alto soggiorno<br /> -Non salì mai in tutta questa etate.<br /> -Ella contenta aver cangiato albergo,<br /> -Si paragona pur coi più perfetti;<br /> -E parte ad or ad or si volge a tergo<br /> -Mirando s’io la seguo, e par ch’aspetti:<br /> -Ond’io voglie e pensier tutti al ciel ergo;<br /> -Perch’io l’odo pregar pur ch’i’ m’affretti.</span></td> -</tr> -</table> - -<p class="center"> -<img src="images/dots.jpg" width="36" height="33" alt="dots" title="dots" /> -</p> - - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">-23-</a></span></p> - -<h3>XI</h3> - -<table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="0" summary=""> -<tr> -<td><span class="smcap">The</span> holy angels and the spirits blest,<br /> -Celestial bands, upon that day serene<br /> -When first my love went by in heavenly sheen,<br /> -Came thronging, wondering at the gracious guest.<br /> -“What light is here, in what new beauty drest?”<br /> -They said among themselves; “for none has seen<br /> -Within this age arrive so fair a mien<br /> -From changing earth unto immortal rest.”<br /> -And she, contented with her new-found bliss,<br /> -Ranks with the perfect in that upper sphere,<br /> -Yet ever and anon looks back on this,<br /> -To watch for me, as if for me she stayed.<br /> -So strive my thoughts, lest that high heaven I miss.<br /> -I hear her call, and must not be delayed.</td> -</tr> -</table> - -<p class="center"> -<img src="images/dots.jpg" width="36" height="33" alt="dots" title="dots" /> -</p> - - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">-24-</a></span></p> - -<h3>XII</h3> - -<table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="0" summary=""> -<tr> -<td><span lang="it" xml:lang="it"><span class="smcap">Dicemi</span> spesso il mio fidato speglio,<br /> -L’animo stanco e la cangiata scorza<br /> -E la scemata mia destrezza e forza;<br /> -Non ti nasconder più; tu se’ pur veglio.<br /> -Obbedir a Natura in tutto è il meglio;<br /> -Ch’a contender con lei il tempo ne sforza.<br /> -Subito allor, com’acqua il foco ammorza,<br /> -D’un lungo e grave sonno mi risveglio:<br /> -E veggio ben che ’l nostro viver vola,<br /> -E ch’esser non si può più d’una volta;<br /> -E ’n mezzo ’l cor mi sona una parola<br /> -Di lei ch’è or dal suo bel nodo sciolta,<br /> -Ma ne’ suoi giorni al mondo fu sì sola,<br /> -Ch’a tutte, s’i’ non erro, fama ha tolta.</span></td> -</tr> -</table> - -<p class="center"> -<img src="images/dots.jpg" width="36" height="33" alt="dots" title="dots" /> -</p> - - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">-25-</a></span></p> - -<h3>XII</h3> - -<table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="0" summary=""> -<tr> -<td><span class="smcap">Oft</span> by my faithful mirror I am told,<br /> -And by my mind outworn and altered brow,<br /> -My earthly powers impaired and weakened now,—<br /> -“Deceive thyself no more, for thou art old!”<br /> -Who strives with Nature’s laws is over-bold,<br /> -And Time to his commandment bids us bow.<br /> -Like fire that waves have quenched, I calmly vow<br /> -In life’s long dream no more my sense to fold.<br /> -And while I think, our swift existence flies,<br /> -And none can live again earth’s brief career,—<br /> -Then in my deepest heart the voice replies<br /> -Of one who now has left this mortal sphere,<br /> -But walked alone through earthly destinies,<br /> -And of all women is to fame most dear.</td> -</tr> -</table> - -<p class="center"> -<img src="images/dots.jpg" width="36" height="33" alt="dots" title="dots" /> -</p> - - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">-26-</a></span></p> - -<h3>XIII</h3> - -<table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="0" summary=""> -<tr> -<td><span lang="it" xml:lang="it"><span class="smcap">Vago</span> augelletto che cantando vai,<br /> -Ovver piangendo il tuo tempo passato,<br /> -Vedendoti la notte e ’l verno a lato,<br /> -E ’l dì dopo le spalle e i mesi gai;<br /> -Se come i tuoi gravosi affanni sai,<br /> -Così sapessi il mio simile stato,<br /> -Verresti in grembo a questo sconsolato<br /> -A partir seco i dolorosi guai.<br /> -I’ non so se le parti sarian pari;<br /> -Che quella cui tu piangi è forse in vita,<br /> -Di ch’a me Morte e ’l Ciel son tanto avari:<br /> -Ma la stagione e l’ora men gradita,<br /> -Col membrar de’ dolci anni e degli amari,<br /> -A parlar teco con pietà m’invita.</span></td> -</tr> -</table> - -<p class="center"> -<img src="images/dots.jpg" width="36" height="33" alt="dots" title="dots" /> -</p> - - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">-27-</a></span></p> - -<h3>XIII</h3> - -<table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="0" summary=""> -<tr> -<td><span class="smcap">Sweet</span> wandering bird that singest on thy way,<br /> -Or mournest yet the time for ever past,<br /> -Watching night come and spring receding fast,<br /> -Day’s bliss behind thee and the seasons gay,—<br /> -If thou my griefs against thine own couldst weigh,<br /> -Thou couldst not guess how long my sorrows last;<br /> -Yet thou mightst hide thee from the wintry blast<br /> -Within my breast, and thus my pains allay.<br /> -Yet may not all thy woes be named with mine,<br /> -Since she whom thou dost mourn may live, yet live,<br /> -But death and heaven still hold my spirit’s bride;<br /> -And all those long past days of sad decline<br /> -With all the joys remembered years can give<br /> -Still bid me ask “Sweet bird! with me abide!”</td> -</tr> -</table> - -<p class="center"> -<img src="images/dots.jpg" width="36" height="33" alt="dots" title="dots" /> -</p> - - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">-28-</a></span></p> - -<h3>XIV</h3> - -<table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="0" summary=""> -<tr> -<td><span lang="it" xml:lang="it"><span class="smcap">La</span> gola e ’l sonno e l’oziose piume<br /> -Hanno del mondo ogni vertù sbandita,<br /> -Ond’è dal corso suo quasi smarrita<br /> -Nostra natura, vinta dal costume;<br /> -Ed è sì spento ogni benigno lume<br /> -Del ciel, per cui s’informa umana vita,<br /> -Che per cosa mirabile s’addita<br /> -Chi vuol far d’Elicona nascer fiume.<br /> -Qual vaghezza di lauro? qual di mirto?<br /> -Povera e nuda vai, filosofia,<br /> -Dice la turba al vil guadagno intesa.<br /> -Pochi compagni avrai per l’altra via:<br /> -Tanto ti prego più, gentile spirto,<br /> -Non lassar la magnanima tua impresa.</span></td> -</tr> -</table> - -<p class="center"> -<img src="images/dots.jpg" width="36" height="33" alt="dots" title="dots" /> -</p> - - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">-29-</a></span></p> - -<h3>XIV</h3> - -<table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="0" summary=""> -<tr> -<td><span class="smcap">Lust</span> and dull slumber and the lazy hours<br /> -Have well nigh banished virtue from mankind.<br /> -Hence have man’s nature and his treacherous mind<br /> -Left their free course, enmeshed in sin’s soft bowers.<br /> -The very light of heaven hath lost its powers<br /> -Mid fading ways our loftiest dreams to find;<br /> -Men jeer at him whose footsteps are inclined<br /> -Where Helicon from dewy fountains showers.<br /> -Who seeks the laurel? who the myrtle twines?<br /> -“Wisdom, thou goest a beggar and unclad,”<br /> -So scoffs the crowd, intent on worthless gain.<br /> -Few are the hearts that prize the poet’s lines:<br /> -Yet, friend, the more I hail thy spirit glad!<br /> -Let not the glory of thy purpose wane!</td> -</tr> -</table> - -<p class="center"> -<img src="images/dots.jpg" width="36" height="33" alt="dots" title="dots" /> -</p> - - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">-30-</a></span></p> - -<h3>XV</h3> - -<table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="0" summary=""> -<tr> -<td><span lang="it" xml:lang="it"><span class="smcap">Voi</span> ch’ascoltate in rime sparse il suono<br /> -Di quei sospiri ond’io nudriva il core<br /> -In sul mio primo giovenile errore,<br /> -Quand’ era in parte altr’uom da quel ch’i’ sono;<br /> -Del vario stile, in ch’io piango e ragiono<br /> -Fra le vane speranze e ’l van dolore,<br /> -Ove sia chi per prova intenda amore,<br /> -Spero trovar pietà, non che perdono.<br /> -Ma ben veggi’ or, sì come al popol tutto<br /> -Favola fui gran tempo: onde sovente<br /> -Di me medesmo meco mi vergogno:<br /> -E del mio vaneggiar vergogna è ’l frutto,<br /> -E ’l pentirsi, e ’l conoscer chiaramente<br /> -Che quanto piace al mondo è breve sogno.</span></td> -</tr> -</table> - -<p class="center"> -<img src="images/dots.jpg" width="36" height="33" alt="dots" title="dots" /> -</p> - - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">-31-</a></span></p> - -<h3>XV</h3> - -<table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="0" summary=""> -<tr> -<td><span class="smcap">O ye</span> who trace through scattered verse the sound<br /> -Of those long sighs wherewith I fed my heart<br /> -Amid youth’s errors, when in greater part<br /> -That man unlike this present man was found;<br /> -For the mixed strain which here I do compound<br /> -Of empty hopes and pains that vainly start,<br /> -Whatever soul hath truly felt love’s smart,<br /> -With pity and with pardon will abound.<br /> -But now I see full well how long I earned<br /> -All men’s reproof; and oftentimes my soul<br /> -Lies crushed by its own grief; and it doth seem<br /> -For such misdeed shame is the fruitage whole,<br /> -And wild repentance and the knowledge learned<br /> -That worldly joy is still a short, short dream.</td> -</tr> -</table> - -<p class="center"> -<img src="images/dots.jpg" width="36" height="33" alt="dots" title="dots" /> -</p> - - - - -<hr /> - -<p class="centerbp"> -FOUR HUNDRED AND THIRTY COPIES<br /> -PRINTED AT THE RIVERSIDE PRESS<br /> -CAMBRIDGE, IN THE MONTH OF SEPTEMBER,<br /> -MDCCCCIII. NUMBER 426 -</p> - -<p class="center"> -<img src="images/colophon.jpg" width="256" height="300" alt="colophon" title="colophon" /> -</p> - - - -<hr /> -<div class="notes"><a id="ERRATA"></a> -<p><i>Transcriber’s Note:</i> Below is a list of printer errors that have been -corrected in the Italian sonnets, by reference to the 1964 critical edition -of <i>Il Canzoniere</i> edited by Gianfranco Contini, available at -<a href="http://www.liberliber.it/online/autori/autori-p/francesco-petrarca/canzoniere-rerum-vulgarium-fragmenta/">Liber Liber</a>. -The translator of this book probably used -as his source an edition in which spelling and punctuation were -somewhat modernized; these modernizations have not been altered in -this e-book. Spacing of elisions (such as “ch’ascolti”) has been -normalized. The original book was printed almost entirely in italics, -which are not marked as such in this e-text. Printer errors in the -English introduction have been corrected without note.</p> - -<table style="width: 70%" border="0" cellpadding="5" cellspacing="0" summary="errata"> -<tr><td><b>Sonnet</b></td><td><b>Line</b></td><td><b>Error</b></td><td><b>Correction</b></td></tr> -<tr><td><a href="#Page_4">II</a></td><td>10</td><td>a’udendo</td><td>d’udendo</td></tr> -<tr><td><a href="#Page_6">III</a></td><td>14</td><td>Che</td><td>Ché</td></tr> -<tr><td><a href="#Page_8">IV</a></td><td>13</td><td>che</td><td>ché</td></tr> -<tr><td><a href="#Page_12">VI</a></td><td>4</td><td>Che</td><td>Ché</td></tr> -<tr><td><a href="#Page_12">VI</a></td><td>12</td><td>si</td><td>sì</td></tr> -<tr><td><a href="#Page_14">VII</a></td><td>9</td><td>doglia</td><td>doglio</td></tr> -<tr><td><a href="#Page_16">VIII</a></td><td>9</td><td>Che</td><td>Ché</td></tr> -</table> - -<p>The sonnets in this book correspond to the following numbers in -<i>Il Canzoniere</i>:</p> - -<table style="width: 70%" border="0" cellpadding="5" cellspacing="0" summary="sonnets"> -<tr><td><b>This book</b></td><td><b><i>Il Canzoniere</i></b></td></tr> -<tr><td><a href="#Page_2">I</a></td><td>162 Lieti fiori</td></tr> -<tr><td><a href="#Page_4">II</a></td><td>167 Quando Amor</td></tr> -<tr><td><a href="#Page_6">III</a></td><td>227 Aura che quelle chiome</td></tr> -<tr><td><a href="#Page_8">IV</a></td><td>261 Qual donna attende</td></tr> -<tr><td><a href="#Page_10">V</a></td><td>161 O passi sparsi</td></tr> -<tr><td><a href="#Page_12">VI</a></td><td>156 I’ vidi in terra</td></tr> -<tr><td><a href="#Page_14">VII</a></td><td>292 Gli occhi di ch’io parlai</td></tr> -<tr><td><a href="#Page_16">VIII</a></td><td>294 Soleasi nel mio cor</td></tr> -<tr><td><a href="#Page_18">IX</a></td><td>302 Levommi il mio pensier</td></tr> -<tr><td><a href="#Page_20">X</a></td><td>351 Dolci durezze</td></tr> -<tr><td><a href="#Page_22">XI</a></td><td>346 Gli angeli eletti</td></tr> -<tr><td><a href="#Page_24">XII</a></td><td>361 Dicemi spesso</td></tr> -<tr><td><a href="#Page_26">XIII</a></td><td>353 Vago augelletto</td></tr> -<tr><td><a href="#Page_28">XIV</a></td><td>7 La gola e ’l sonno</td></tr> -<tr><td><a href="#Page_30">XV</a></td><td>1 Voi ch’ascoltate</td></tr> -</table> -</div> - - - - - - - - - -<pre> - - - - - -End of Project Gutenberg's Fifteen sonnets of Petrarch, by Francesco Petrarca - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FIFTEEN SONNETS OF PETRARCH *** - -***** This file should be named 50307-h.htm or 50307-h.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/5/0/3/0/50307/ - -Produced by Carlo Traverso, Linda Cantoni, and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net, in -celebration of Distributed Proofreaders' 15th Anniversary, -using images generously made available by The Internet -Archive. - - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions -will be renamed. - -Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no -one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation -(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without -permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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