A Daily Countdown to 700 Years with the “colpi d’Amor”
“Benedetto sia ‘l giorno, et ‘l mese, et l’anno, / et la stagione, e’l tempo, et l’ora, e ‘l punto…” — Rvf 61
“Blessed be the day, and the month, and the year, and the season, and the time, and the hour, and the moment…”(Kline).
Quando dal proprio sito si rimove
l’arbor ch’amò già Phebo in corpo humano,
sospira et suda a l’opera Vulcano,
per rinfrescar l’aspre saette a Giove:
il qual or tona, or nevicha et or piove,
senza honorar piú Cesare che Giano;
la terra piange, e ‘l sol ci sta lontano,
che la sua cara amica ved’altrove.
Allor riprende ardir Saturno et Marte,
crudeli stelle, et Orïone armato
spezza a’ tristi nocchier’ governi et sarte;
Eolo a Neptuno et a Giunon turbato
fa sentire, et a noi, come si parte
il bel viso dagli angeli aspectato.
When that tree that Apollo once loved
in its human form moves from its proper place,
Vulcan sighs and sweats at his work,
to refresh Jupiter’s sharp lightning-bolts:
who sends now thunder, now snow, or rain,
without regard to July or January:
the earth weeps, and the sun stays far away,
because he sees his dear friend vanish.
Then those fierce planets Saturn and Mars
blaze out again, and armed Orion
shatters the poor sailor’s tiller and shrouds:
and stormy Aeolus makes Neptune,
and Juno, and us, feel the departure
of that lovely face the angels wait for.