The Sonnets Of Tommaso Campanella - The Brood Of Ignorance.

Io nacqui a debellar.


To quell three Titan evils I was made,--
        Tyranny, Sophistry, Hypocrisy;
        Whence I perceive with what wise harmony
        Themis on me Love, Power, and Wisdom laid.
These are the basements firm whereon is stayed,
        Supreme and strong, our new philosophy;
        The antidotes against that trinal lie
        Wherewith the burdened world groaning is weighed.
Famine, war, pestilence, fraud, envy, pride,
        Injustice, idleness, lust, fury, fear,
        Beneath these three great plagues securely hide.
Grounded on blind self-love, the offspring dear
        Of Ignorance, they flourish and abide:--
        Wherefore to root up Ignorance I'm here!

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

The Sonnets Of Tommaso Campanella - The Millennium.

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Michelangelo di Lodovico Buonarroti Simoni, Simple Poetry

The Sonnets Of Tommaso Campanella - True And False Nobility.

Michelangelo di Lodovico Buonarroti Simoni, Simple Poetry

The Sonnets Of Tommaso Campanella - On The Sepulchre Of Christ. No. I.

Michelangelo di Lodovico Buonarroti Simoni, Simple Poetry

English

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The Sonnets Of Tommaso Campanella - The Proem.

Io che nacqui dal Senno.


Born of God's Wisdom and Philosophy,
        Keen lover of true beauty and true good,
        I call the vain self-traitorous multitude
        Back to my mother's milk; for it is she,
Faithful to God her spouse, who nourished me,
        Making me quick and active to intrude
        Within the inmost veil, where I have viewed
        And handled all things in eternity.
If the whole world's our home where we may run,
        Up, friends, forsake those secondary schools
        Which give grains, units, inches for the whole!
If facts surpass mere words, melt pride of soul,
        And pain, and ignorance that hardens fools,
        Here in the fire I've stolen from the Sun!

Michelangelo di Lodovico Buonarroti Simoni

The Sonnets Of Tommaso Campanella - An Exhortation To Mankind.

Abitator del mondo.


Ye dwellers on this world, to the first Mind
        Exalt your eyes; and ye shall see how low
        Vile Tyranny, wearing the glorious show
        Of nobleness and worth, keeps you confined.
Then look at proud Hypocrisy, entwined
        With lies and snares, who once taught men to know
        The fear of God. Next to the Sophists go,
        Traitors to thought and reason, jugglers blind.
Keen Socrates to quell the Sophists came:
        To quell the Tyrants, Cato just and rough:
        To quell the Hypocrites, Christ, heaven's own flame.
But to unmask fraud, sacrilege, and lies,
        Or boldly rush on death, is not enough;
        Unless we all taste God, made inly wise.

Michelangelo di Lodovico Buonarroti Simoni

The Sonnets Of Tommaso Campanella - Sophists.

Nessun ti verrà a dire.


'Behold, I am a Sophist!' no man saith.
        But the true sons of perfidy refined
        Forge theologic lies the soul to blind,
        Calling themselves evangels of the faith.
Aretine with his scoundrels blew his breath,
        And in the cynic orgies boldly joined;
        His ribald jests had flowers and thorns combined--
        A frank fair list including life and death,
For fun, not fraud. It shames him to be found
        Less vile than those who cannot bear to see
        Their sink of filth laid open to the ground:
Wherefore they shut our mouths, our books impound,
        Garble with lies each sentence that may be
        Cited to prove their foul hypocrisy.

Michelangelo di Lodovico Buonarroti Simoni

The Sonnets Of Tommaso Campanella - To The Poets.

In superbia il valor.


Valour to pride hath turned; grave holiness
        To vile hypocrisy; all gentle ways
        To empty forms; sound sense to idle lays;
        Pure love to heat; beauty to paint and dress:--
Thanks to you, Poets! you who sing the praise
        Of fabled knights, foul fires, lies, nullities;
        Not virtue, nor the wrapped sublimities
        Of God, as bards were wont in those old days.
How far more wondrous than your phantasies
        Are Nature's works, how far more sweet to sing!
        Thus taught, the soul falsehood and truth descries.
That tale alone is worth the pondering,
        Which hath not smothered history in lies,
        And arms the soul against each sinful thing.

Michelangelo di Lodovico Buonarroti Simoni

The Sonnets Of Tommaso Campanella - Hypocrites.

Nessun ti venne a dir.


Who comes and saith: 'A Tyrant, lo, am I!'
        And, 'I am Antichrist!' what man will swear?
        The crafty rogue, hiding his poisonous ware,
        Sells you what slays your soul, for sanctity.
Cheats, brigands, prostitutes, and all that fry,
        Not having fashioned so devout a snare,
        Appear worse sinners than perhaps they are;
        For where the craft's small, small's the villainy;
You're on your guard. The meek Samaritan
        Makes way before those guileful Pharisees,
        Though God assigned to him the higher place.
        Not words nor wonders prove a virtuous man,
But deeds and acts. How many deities
        Hath this false standard given the human race!

Michelangelo di Lodovico Buonarroti Simoni

The Sonnets Of Tommaso Campanella - Love Of Self And God.

Questo amor singolar.


This love of self sinks man in sinful sloth:
        Yet, if he seek to live, he needs must feign
        Sense, goodness, courage. Thus he dwells in pain,
        A sphinx, twy-souled, a false self-stunted growth.
Honours, applause, and wealth these torments soothe;
        Till jealousy, contrasting his foul stain
        With virtues eminent, by spur and rein
        Drives him to slay, steal, poison, break his oath.
But he who loves our common Father, hath
        All men for brothers, and with God doth joy
        In whatsoever worketh for their bliss.
Good Francis called the birds upon his path
        Brethren; to him the fishes were not coy.--
        Oh, blest is he who comprehendeth this!

Michelangelo di Lodovico Buonarroti Simoni