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).
La guancia che fu già piangendo stancha
riposate su l’un, signor mio caro,
et siate ormai di voi stesso piú avaro
a quel crudel che ‘ suoi seguaci imbiancha.
Coll’altro richiudete da man mancha
la strada a’ messi suoi ch’indi passaro,
mostrandovi un d’agosto et di genaro,
perch’a la lunga via tempo ne mancha.
E col terzo bevete un suco d’erba
che purghe ogni pensier che ‘l cor afflige,
dolce a la fine, et nel principio acerba.
Me riponete ove ‘l piacer si serba,
tal ch’i’ non tema del nocchier di Stige,
se la preghiera mia non è superba.
My dear lord, rest that cheek of yours
already tired with weeping, on my first gift,
be more careful of yourself with that cruel one
who makes pallid all those who follow him.
With the second, block with your left hand
the path that his messengers pass along,
appear the same in August as January,
so as not to lose your time on the long road.
And drink a herbal mixture from the third,
to purge away all thought that pains the heart,
sweet at the last, though the start is bitter.
Keep me where all your pleasures are stored,
so I will not fear the Stygian ferryman,
if the request I make does not seem proud.
Note: Sent to Agapito Colonna, Bishop of Luni
with the gifts presumably of a pillow, book, and cup.
The poem has indeed evaded Charon so far.