A Prayer To Nature. Amor Redivivus. - First Reading

Perchè tuo gran bellezze.


That thy great beauty on our earth may be
        Shrined in a lady softer and more kind,
        I call on nature to collect and bind
        All those delights the slow years steal from thee,
And save them to restore the radiancy
        Of thy bright face in some fair form designed
        By heaven; and may Love ever bear in mind
        To mould her heart of grace and courtesy.
I call on nature too to keep my sighs,
        My scattered tears to take and recombine,
        And give to him who loves that fair again:
More happy he perchance shall move those eyes
        To mercy by the griefs wherewith I pine,
        Nor lose the kindness that from me is ta'en!

Michelangelo di Lodovico Buonarroti Simoni

Michelangelo di Lodovico Buonarroti Simoni was an Italian sculptor, painter, architect, and poet of the High Renaissance. Born on March 6, 1475, he is widely considered one of the greatest artists of all time. His poetry, although lesser-known compared to his other artistic achievements, displays his deep contemplation of art, love, and spirituality. Michelangelo passed away on February 18, 1564.

Michelangelo di Lodovico Buonarroti Simoni

At The Foot Of The Cross.

Michelangelo di Lodovico Buonarroti Simoni, Simple Poetry

On Dante Alighieri.

Michelangelo di Lodovico Buonarroti Simoni, Simple Poetry

The Sonnets Of Tommaso Campanella - On The Lord's Prayer. No. 3.

Michelangelo di Lodovico Buonarroti Simoni, Simple Poetry

The Defence Of Night.

Michelangelo di Lodovico Buonarroti Simoni, Simple Poetry

English

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A Prayer To Nature. Amor Redivivus. - Second Reading.

Sol perchè tue bellezze.


If only that thy beauties here may be
        Deathless through Time that rends the wreaths he twined,
        I trust that Nature will collect and bind
        All those delights the slow years steal from thee,
And keep them for a birth more happily
        Born under better auspices, refined
        Into a heavenly form of nobler mind,
        And dowered with all thine angel purity.
Ah me! and may heaven also keep my sighs,
        My scattered tears preserve and reunite,
        And give to him who loves that fair again!
More happy he perchance shall move those eyes
        To mercy by the griefs my manhood blight,
        Nor lose the kindness that from me is ta'en!

Michelangelo di Lodovico Buonarroti Simoni

Heaven-Born Beauty. First Reading.

Per ritornar là.


As one who will reseek her home of light,
        Thy form immortal to this prison-house
        Descended, like an angel piteous,
        To heal all hearts and make the whole world bright.
'Tis this that thralls my soul in love's delight,
        Not thy clear face of beauty glorious;
        For he who harbours virtue, still will choose
        To love what neither years nor death can blight.
So fares it ever with things high and rare
        Wrought in the sweat of nature; heaven above
        Showers on their birth the blessings of her prime:
Nor hath God deigned to show Himself elsewhere
        More clearly than in human forms sublime;
        Which, since they image Him, alone I love.

Michelangelo di Lodovico Buonarroti Simoni

Heaven-Born Beauty. Second Reading.

Venne, non so ben donde.


It came, I know not whence, from far above,
        That clear immortal flame that still doth rise
        Within thy sacred breast, and fills the skies,
        And heals all hearts, and adds to heaven new love.
This burns me, this, and the pure light thereof;
        Not thy fair face, thy sweet untroubled eyes:
        For love that is not love for aught that dies,
        Dwells in the soul where no base passions move.
If then such loveliness upon its own
        Should graft new beauties in a mortal birth,
        The sheath bespeaks the shining blade within.
To gain our love God hath not clearer shown
        Himself elsewhere: thus heaven doth vie with earth
        To make thee worthy worship without sin.

Michelangelo di Lodovico Buonarroti Simoni

Love In Youth And Age. Second Reading.

Tornami al tempo.


Bring back the time when glad desire ran free
        With bit and rein too loose to curb his flight,
        The tears and flames that in one breast unite,
        If thou art fain once more to conquer me!
Bring back those journeys ta'en so toilsomely,
        So toilsome-slow to him whose hairs are white!
        Give back the buried face once angel-bright,
        That taxed all Nature's art and industry.
O Love! an old man finds it hard to chase
        Thy flying pinions! Thou hast left thy nest;
        Nor is my heart as light as heretofore.
Put thy gold arrows to the string once more:
        Then if Death hear my prayer and grant me grace,
        My grief I shall forget, again made blest.

Michelangelo di Lodovico Buonarroti Simoni

Carnal And Spiritual Love. First Reading.

Passa per gli occhi.


Swift through the eyes unto the heart within
        All lovely forms that thrall our spirit stray;
        So smooth and broad and open is the way
        That thousands and not hundreds enter in.
Burdened with scruples and weighed down with sin,
        These mortal beauties fill me with dismay;
        Nor find I one that doth not strive to stay
        My soul on transient joy, or lets me win
The heaven I yearn for. Lo, when erring love--
        Who fills the world, howe'er his power we shun,
        Else were the world a grave and we undone--
Assails the soul, if grace refuse to fan
        Our purged desires and make them soar above,
        What grief it were to have been born a man!

Michelangelo di Lodovico Buonarroti Simoni

Love's Entreaty.

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,
        And knowest that I know thou knowest me:
        What means it then that we are sundered so?
If they are true, these hopes that from thee flow,
        If it is real, this sweet expectancy,
        Break down the wall that stands 'twixt me and thee;
        For pain in prison pent hath double woe.
Because in thee I love, O my loved lord,
        What thou best lovest, be not therefore stern:
        Souls burn for souls, spirits to spirits cry!
I seek the splendour in thy fair face stored;
        Yet living man that beauty scarce can learn,
        And he who fain would find it, first must die.

Michelangelo di Lodovico Buonarroti Simoni