The Sonnets Of Tommaso Campanella - To Genoa.

Le Ninfe d'Arno.


The nymphs of Arno; Adria's goddess-queen;
        Greece, where the Latin banner floated free;
        The lands that border on the Syrian sea;
        The Euxine, and fair Naples; these have been
Thine, by the right of conquest; these should be
        Still thine by empire: Asia's broad demesne,
        Afric, America--realms never seen
        But by thy venture--all belong to thee.
But thou, thyself not knowing, leavest all
        For a poor price to strangers; since thy head
        Is weak, albeit thy limbs are stout and good.
Genoa, mistress of the world, recall
        Thy soul magnanimous! Nay, be not led
        Slave to base gold, thou and thy tameless brood!

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

Light And Darkness.

Michelangelo di Lodovico Buonarroti Simoni, Simple Poetry

Love's Expostulation.

Michelangelo di Lodovico Buonarroti Simoni, Simple Poetry

To Monsignor Lodovico Beccadelli. Urbino.

Michelangelo di Lodovico Buonarroti Simoni, Simple Poetry

The Sonnets Of Tommaso Campanella - To Telesius Of Cosenza.

Michelangelo di Lodovico Buonarroti Simoni, Simple Poetry

English

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The Sonnets Of Tommaso Campanella - To Venice.

Nuova arca di Noè.


New Ark of Noah! when the cruel scourge
        Of that barbarian tyrant like a wave
        Went over Italy, thou then didst save
        The seed of just men on the weltering surge.
Here, still by discord and foul servitude
        Untainted, thou a hero brood dost raise,
        Powerful and prudent. Due to thee their praise
        Of maiden pure, of teeming motherhood!
Thou wonder of the world, Rome's loyal heir,
        Thou pride and strong support of Italy,
        Dial of princes, school of all things wise!
Thou like Arcturus steadfast in the skies,
        With tardy sense guidest thy kingdom fair,
        Bearing alone the load of liberty.

Michelangelo di Lodovico Buonarroti Simoni

The Sonnets Of Tommaso Campanella - On Italy.

La gran Donna.


That Lady who to Caesar came in state
        Upon the Rubicon, what time she feared
        Ruin from those strange races who appeared
        Erewhile to build her empire strong and great,
Now stays with limbs dispersed and lacerate,
        A bondslave, shorn of all her pomp revered:
        Nor seems it now that Dinah's shame can gird
        Simeon or Levi to avenge her fate.
If then Jerusalem doth not repair
        To Nazareth or Athens, where did reign
        Wisdom of God or man in days of yore,
None shall arise her honours to restore:
        For Herods are all strangers; when they swear
        To save the Saviour's seed, their oath is vain.

Michelangelo di Lodovico Buonarroti Simoni

The Sonnets Of Tommaso Campanella - A Writer Of Eclogues. To Annibale Caraccioli,

Non Licida, nè Driope.


Lycoris, Lycidas, and Dryope
        Cannot, dear Niblo, save thy name from death;
        Shadows that fleet, and flowers that yield their breath,
        Match not the Love that craves infinity.
The beauty thou dost worship dwells in thee:
        Within thy soul divine it harboureth:
        This also bids my spirit soar, and saith
        Words that unsphere for me heaven's harmony.
Make then thine inborn lustre beam and shine
        With love of goodness; goodness cannot fail:
        From God alone let praise immense be thine.
My soul is tired of telling o'er the tale
        With men: she calls on thine: she bids thee go
        Into God's school with tablets white as snow.

Michelangelo di Lodovico Buonarroti Simoni

The Sonnets Of Tommaso Campanella - To Tobia Adami.

Portando in man.


Holding the cynic lantern in your hand,
        Through Europe, Egypt, Asia, you have passed,
        Till at Ausonia's feet you find at last
        That Cyclops' cave, where I, to darkness banned,
In light eternal forge for you the brand
        Against Abaddon, who hath overcast
        The truth and right, Adami, made full fast
        Unto God's glory by our steadfast band.
Go, smite each sophist, tyrant, hypocrite!
        Girt with the arms of the first Wisdom, free
        Your country from the frauds that cumber it!
Swerve not: 'twere sin. How good, how great the praise
        Of him who turns youth, strength, soul, energy,
        Unto the dayspring of the eternal rays!

Michelangelo di Lodovico Buonarroti Simoni

The Sonnets Of Tommaso Campanella - To The Swiss.

Se voi più innalza.


Ye Alpine rocks! If less your peaks elate
        To heaven exalt you than that gift divine,
        Freedom; why do your children still combine
        To keep the despots in their stolen state?
Lo, for a piece of bread from windows wide
        You fling your blood, taking no thought what cause,
        Righteous or wrong, your strength to battle draws;
        So is your valour spurned and vilified.
All things belong to free men; but the slave
        Clothes and feeds poorly. Even so from you
        Broad lands and Malta's knighthood men withhold.
Up, free yourselves, and act as heroes do!
        Go, take your own from tyrants, which you gave
        So recklessly, and they so dear have sold!

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