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).
Que’che ‘n Tesaglia ebbe le man’ sí pronte
a farla del civil sangue vermiglia,
pianse morto il marito di sua figlia,
raffigurato a le fatezze conte;
e ‘l pastor ch’a Golia ruppe la fronte,
pianse la ribellante sua famiglia,
et sopra ‘l buon Saúl cangiò le ciglia,
ond’assai può dolersi il fiero monte.
Ma voi che mai pietà non discolora,
et ch’avete gli schermi sempre accorti
contra l’arco d’Amor che ‘ndarno tira,
mi vedete straziare a mille morti:
né lagrima però discese anchora
da’ be’ vostr’occhi, ma disdegno et ira.
Caesar who was all too ready, in Thessaly,
to paint the ground crimson in civil war,
wept for Pompey his dead son-in-law,
recognising his familiar features:
and David the shepherd-boy who shattered
Goliath’s skull, wept for Absalom his rebellious son,
and even drowned his eyes for the dead Saul,
so much so he cursed Gilboa’s cruel mountain.
But you whom pity never caused to pale,
who always have your veil to protect you
against the bow Love draws in vain,
see me tormented by a thousand deaths:
and yet have never let one tear fall
from your sweet eyes, only disdain and anger.