Michelangelo di Lodovico Buonarroti Simoni

Deh fammiti vedere. Oh, make me see Thee, Lord, where'er I go! If mortal beauty sets my soul on fire,

Non ' pi' bassa. There's not on earth a thing more vile and base Than, lacking Thee, I feel myself to be:

S' avvien che spesso. What though strong love of life doth flatter me With hope of yet more years on earth to stay,

Parmi che spesso. Ofttimes my great desire doth flatter me With hope on earth yet many years to stay:

Forse perch' d' altrui. Perchance that I might learn what pity is, That I might laugh at erring men no more,

Carico d'anni. Burdened with years and full of sinfulness, With evil custom grown inveterate,

Perch' tuo gran bellezze. That thy great beauty on our earth may be Shrined in a lady softer and more kind,

Sol perch' tue bellezze. If only that thy beauties here may be Deathless through Time that rends the wreaths he twined,

Qual maraviglia '. If being near the fire I burned with it, Now that its flame is quenched and doth not show,

Be' mi dove'. Well might I in those days so fortunate, What time the sun lightened my path above,

Se 'l mie rozzo martello. When my rude hammer to the stubborn stone Gives human shape, now that, now this, at will,

Quand' el ministro de' sospir. When she who was the source of all my sighs, Fled from the world, herself, my straining sight,

Scarco d' un' importuna. Freed from a burden sore and grievous band, Dear Lord, and from this wearying world untied,

Al cor di zolfo. A heart of flaming sulphur, flesh of tow, Bones of dry wood, a soul without a guide

Se 'l foco alla bellezza. If but the fire that lightens in thine eyes Were equal with their beauty, all the snow

Passa per gli occhi. Swift through the eyes unto the heart within All lovely forms that thrall our spirit stray;

Passa per gli occhi. Swift through the eyes unto the heart within All lovely forms that thrall our spirit stray;

Non ' sempre di colpa. Love is not always harsh and deadly sin: If it be love of loveliness divine,

Non vider gli occhi miei. I saw no mortal beauty with these eyes When perfect peace in thy fair eyes I found;

Da che concetto. When divine Art conceives a form and face, She bids the craftsman for his first essay

Ben posson gli occhi. Well may these eyes of mine both near and far Behold the beams that from thy beauty flow;

Vorrei voler, Signior. Fain would I wish what my heart cannot will: Between it and the fire a veil of ice

Per ritornar l'. As one who will reseek her home of light, Thy form immortal to this prison-house

Venne, non so ben donde. It came, I know not whence, from far above, That clear immortal flame that still doth rise

S' i' avessi creduto. Had I but earlier known that from the eyes Of that bright soul that fires me like the sun,

I' l' ho, vostra merc'. I've gotten it, thanks to your courtesy; And I have read it twenty times or so:

Non men gran grasia, donna. Too much good luck no less than misery May kill a man condemned to mortal pain,

Colui che fece. He who ordained, when first the world began, Time, that was not before creation's hour,

S' come nella penna. As pen and ink alike serve him who sings In high or low or intermediate style;

Ognor che l' idol mio. Whene'er the idol of these eyes appears Unto my musing heart so weak and strong,

Quand' il servo il signior. When masters bind a slave with cruel chain, And keep him hope-forlorn in bondage pent,

Tornami al tempo. Bring back the time when blind desire ran free, With bit and rein too loose to curb his flight;

Tornami al tempo. Bring back the time when glad desire ran free With bit and rein too loose to curb his flight,

Non pi' ch' 'l foco il fabbro. It is with fire that blacksmiths iron subdue Unto fair form, the image of their thought:

Veggio nel tuo bel viso. From thy fair face I learn, O my loved lord, That which no mortal tongue can rightly say;

Se l'immortal desio. If the undying thirst that purifies Our mortal thoughts, could draw mine to the day,

La ragion meco si lamenta. Reason laments and grieves full sore with me, The while I hope by loving to be blest;

I' mi credetti. I deemed upon that day when first I knew So many peerless beauties blent in one,

Tu sa' ch' i' so, Signor mie. Thou knowest, love, I know that thou dost know That I am here more near to thee to be,

Se 'l troppo indugio. What though long waiting wins more happiness Than petulant desire is wont to gain,

Dal dolcie pianto. From happy tears to woeful smiles, from peace Eternal to a brief and hollow truce,

S' un casto amor. If love be chaste, if virtue conquer ill, If fortune bind both lovers in one bond,

S' amico al freddo sasso. So friendly is the fire to flinty stone, That, struck therefrom and kindled to a blaze,

Ben pu' talor col mio. Sometimes my love I dare to entertain With soaring hope not over-credulous;

Ben pu' talor col casto. It must be right sometimes to entertain Chaste love with hope not over-credulous;

No so s' ' la desiata luce. I know not if it be the longed-for light Of her first Maker which the spirit feels;

Non so se s' ' l' immaginata luce. I know not if it be the fancied light Which every man or more or less doth feel;

Sento d' un foco. Far off with fire I feel a cold face lit, That makes me burn, the while itself doth freeze:

Perhaps To Vittoria Colonna. S' alcun legato ' pur. He who is bound by some great benefit,

Rendete a gli occhi miei. Give back unto mine eyes, ye fount and rill, Those streams, not yours, that are so full and strong,

Non posso altra figura. I cannot by the utmost flight of thought Conceive another form of air or clay,

Dal ciel discese. From heaven his spirit came, and robed in clay The realms of justice and of mercy trod,

Quante dirne si de'. No tongue can tell of him what should be told, For on blind eyes his splendour shines too strong;

Qua si fa elmi. Here helms and swords are made of chalices: The blood of Christ is sold so much the quart:

Poi che spiegate. Now that these wings to speed my wish ascend, The more I feel vast air beneath my feet,

Ogni van chiuso. All hollow vaults and dungeons sealed from sight, All caverns circumscribed with roof and wall,

Se ben concetto. When that which is divine in us doth try To shape a face, both brain and hand unite

Al zucchero, alla mula. The sugar, candles, and the saddled mule, Together with your cask of malvoisie,

Io mi son caro assai pi'. Far more than I was wont myself I prize: With you within my heart I rise in rate,

Com' esser, donna, pu'. How can that be, lady, which all men learn By long experience? Shapes that seem alive,

Mentre m' attrista. Mid weariness and woe I find some cheer In thinking of the past, when I recall

Non fur men lieti. Not less elate than smitten with wild woe To see not them but Thee by death undone,

O nott' o dolce tempo. O night, O sweet though sombre span of time!-- All things find rest upon their journey's end--

Spirto ben nato. Choice soul, in whom, as in a glass, we see, Mirrored in thy pure form and delicate,

Quanta si gode, lieta. What joy hath yon glad wreath of flowers that is Around her golden hair so deftly twined,

La vita del mie amor. This heart of flesh feeds not with life my love: The love wherewith I love thee hath no heart;

Perch' Febo non torce. What time bright Phoebus doth not stretch and bend His shining arms around this terrene sphere,

Non ha l' ottimo artista. The best of artists hath no thought to show Which the rough stone in its superfluous shell

D' altrui pietoso. Kind to the world, but to itself unkind, A worm is born, that dying noiselessly

Gli astrologi antevista. Once on a time the astronomers foresaw The coming of a star to madden men:

Mentre l'acquila invola. While yet the eagle preys, and growls the bear; While roars the lion; while the crow defies

La scuola inimicissima. You sect most adverse to the good and true, Degenerate from your origin divine,

Se fu nel mondo. If men were happy in that age of gold, We yet may hope to see mild Saturn's reign;

Temo che per morir. I fear that by my death the human race Would gain no vantage. Thus I do not die.

Non Licida, n' Driope. Lycoris, Lycidas, and Dryope Cannot, dear Niblo, save thy name from death;

Gli affetti di Pluton. Deep in their hearts they hide the lusts of Hell: Christ's name is written on their brow, that those

Abitator del mondo. Ye dwellers on this world, to the first Mind Exalt your eyes; and ye shall see how low

Non ' brutto il Demon. The Devil's not so ugly as they paint; He's well with all, compact of courtesy:

Seco ogni coif a ' doglia. All crime is its own torment, bearing woe To mind or body or decrease of fame;

Se Dio ci d' la vita. God gives us life, and God our life preserves; Nay, all our happiness on Him doth rest:

La fabbrica del mondo. The fabric of the world--earth, air, and skies-- Each particle thereof and tiniest part

Nessun ti venne a dir. Who comes and saith: 'A Tyrant, lo, am I!' And, 'I am Antichrist!' what man will swear?

Il vero amante. He who loves truly, grows in force and might; For beauty and the image of his love

Questo amor singolar. This love of self sinks man in sinful sloth: Yet, if he seek to live, he needs must feign

Babel disfatta. The golden head was Babylon; she passed: Persia came next, the silvern breast: whereto

La gran Donna. That Lady who to Caesar came in state Upon the Rubicon, what time she feared

Vilissima progenie. Ye vile offscourings! with unblushing face Dare ye claim sonship to our heavenly Sire,

Dov' ' la libert'. Where are the freedom and high feats that spring From fatherhood so fair as Deity?

Allor potrete orar. Then shall ye pray with every hour that flies; Thy kingdom come, and let Thy will be done

Quinci impara a stupirti. Here bend in boundless wonder; bow your head: Think how God's deathless Mind, that men might be

O tu ch' ami la parte. O you who love the part more than the whole, And love yourself more than all human kind,

Credulo il proprio amor. Self-love fools man with false opinion That earth, air, water, fire, the stars we see,

Nessun ti verr' a dire. 'Behold, I am a Sophist!' no man saith. But the true sons of perfidy refined

Mentola al comun corpo. Organ of rut, not reason, is the lord Who from the body politic doth drain

Il mondo ' il libro. The world's the book where the eternal Sense Wrote his own thoughts; the living temple where,

Io nacqui a debellar. To quell three Titan evils I was made,-- Tyranny, Sophistry, Hypocrisy;

Come va al centro. As to the centre all things that have weight Sink from the surface: as the silly mouse

Veggo in candida robba. Clothed in white robes I see the Holy Sire Descend to hold his court amid the band

Natura dal Signor. Nature, by God directed, formed in space The universal comedy we see;

Non piaccia a Dio. Nay, God forbid that mid these tragic throes To idle comedy my thought should bend,

Son tremil' anni. Through full three thousand years the world reveres Blind Love that bears the quiver and hath wings:

Il popolo ' una bestia. The people is a beast of muddy brain, That knows not its own force, and therefore stands

Gran fortuna ' 'l saper. Wisdom is riches great and great estate, Far above wealth; nor are the wise unblest

Convien al secol nostro. Black robes befit our age. Once they were white; Next many-hued; now dark as Afric's Moor,

D' Italia in Grecia. From Rome to Greece, from Greece to Libya's sand, Yearning for liberty, just Cato went;

Io che nacqui dal Senno. Born of God's Wisdom and Philosophy, Keen lover of true beauty and true good,

Se sol sei ore. If Christ was only six hours crucified After few years of toil and misery,

Sciolto e legato. Bound and yet free, companioned and alone, Loud mid my silence, I confound my foes:

Da Roma ad Ostia. From Rome to Ostia a poor man went; Thieves robbed and wounded him upon the way;

Ben sei mila anni. Six thousand years or more on earth I've been: Witness those histories of nations dead,

Dentro un pugno di cervel. A handful of brain holds me: I consume So much that all the books the world contains,

Neron fu Re. Nero was king by accident in show; But Socrates by nature in good sooth;

Il mondo ' un animal. The world's a living creature, whole and great, God's image, praising God whose type it is;

Nel teatro del mondo. The world's a theatre: age after age, Souls masked and muffled in their fleshly gear

Gi' sto mirando. The first heaven-wandering lights I see ascend Upon the seventh and ninth centenary,

Morte, stipendio della colpa. O Death, the wage of our first father's blame, Daughter of envy and nonentity,

Le Ninfe d'Arno. The nymphs of Arno; Adria's goddess-queen; Greece, where the Latin banner floated free;

Come vuoi, ch' a buon porto. How wilt Thou I should gain a harbour fair, If after proof among my friends I find

Tu che Forza ed Amor. O Thou, who, mingling Force and Love, dost draw And guide the complex of all entities,

I tuo' seguaci. Thy followers to-day are less like Thee, The crucified, than those who made Thee die,

Sopra i regni. High o'er those realms that make blind chance the heir Of empire, Poland, dost thou lift thy head:

Senno ed Amor. Wisdom and love, O Bina, gave thee wings, Before the blossom of thy years had faded,

Telesio, il telo. Telesius, the arrow from thy bow Midmost his band of sophists slays that high

In superbia il valor. Valour to pride hath turned; grave holiness To vile hypocrisy; all gentle ways

Se voi pi' innalza. Ye Alpine rocks! If less your peaks elate To heaven exalt you than that gift divine,

Portando in man. Holding the cynic lantern in your hand, Through Europe, Egypt, Asia, you have passed,

Nuova arca di No'. New Ark of Noah! when the cruel scourge Of that barbarian tyrant like a wave

In noi dal senno. Valour and mind form real nobility, The which bears fruit and shows a fair increase

Chi pennelli have e colori. He who hath brush and colours, and chance-wise Doth daub, befouling walls and canvases,

Dimmi di grazia, amor. Nay, prithee tell me, Love, when I behold My lady, do mine eyes her beauty see

La nuova alta belt'. That new transcendent fair who seems to be Peerless in heaven as in this world of woe,

Giunto ' gi'. Now hath my life across a stormy sea Like a frail bark reached that wide port where all

Se con lo stile. With pencil and with palette hitherto You made your art high Nature's paragon;

Le favole del mondo. The fables of the world have filched away The time I had for thinking upon God;

I' ho gi' fatto un gozzo. I've grown a goitre by dwelling in this den-- As cats from stagnant streams in Lombardy,

A pena prima. Scarce had I seen for the first time his eyes Which to your living eyes were life and light,

Nel dolce d' una. It happens that the sweet unfathomed sea Of seeming courtesy sometimes doth hide

Per croce e grazia. God's grace, the cross, our troubles multiplied, Will make us meet in heaven, full well I know:

Signor, se vero '. My Lord! if ever ancient saw spake sooth, Hear this which saith: Who can, doth never will.

Veggio co' bei vostri occhi. With your fair eyes a charming light I see, For which my own blind eyes would peer in vain;

A che pi' debb' io. Why should I seek to ease intense desire With still more tears and windy words of grief,

Felice spirto. Blest spirit, who with loving tenderness Quickenest my heart so old and near to die,

Per esser manco almen. Seeking at least to be not all unfit For thy sublime and boundless courtesy,

Di morte certo. My death must come; but when, I do not know: Life's short, and little life remains for me:

Se nel volto per gli occhi If through the eyes the heart speaks clear and true, I have no stronger sureties than these eyes