Xlviii. _Love's Evening._ Poem by Michelangelo Buonarroti
Xlviii. _Love's Evening._
Se 'l troppo indugio.
What though long waiting wins more happiness
Than petulant desire is wont to gain,
My luck in latest age hath brought me pain,
Thinking how brief must be an old man's bliss.
Heaven, if it heed our lives, can hardly bless
This fire of love when frosts are wont to reign:
For so I love thee, lady, and my strain
Of tears through age exceeds in tenderness.
Yet peradventure though my day is done,-
Though nearly past the setting mid thick cloud
And frozen exhalations sinks my sun,-
If love to only mid-day be allowed,
And I an old man in my evening burn,
You, lady, still my night to noon may turn.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Delivering Poems Around The World
Poems are the property of their respective owners. All information has been reproduced here for educational and informational purposes to benefit site visitors, and is provided at no charge...
9/23/2024 4:30:23 AM # 1.0.0.1119
Michelangelo Buonarroti - Rime 261. Se 'l troppo indugio ha più grazia e ventura Se ’l troppo indugio ha più grazia e ventura che per tempo al desir pietà non suole, la mie, negli anni assai, m’affligge e duole, ché ’l gioir vecchio picciol tempo dura. Contrario ha ’l ciel, se di no’ sente o cura,5 arder nel tempo che ghiacciar si vuole, com’io per donna; onde mie triste e sole lacrime peso con l’età matura. Ma forse, ancor c’al fin del giorno sia, col sol già quasi oltr’a l’occaso spento,10 fra le tenebre folte e ’l freddo rezzo, s’amor c’infiamma solo a mezza via, né altrimenti è, s’io vecchio ardo drento, donna è che del mie fin farà ’l mie mezzo.