Xxv. _The Transfiguration Of Beauty:_ Poem by Michelangelo Buonarroti

Xxv. _The Transfiguration Of Beauty:_

Rating: 5.0

A DIALOGUE WITH LOVE.


Dimmi di grazia, amor.

Nay, prithee tell me, Love, when I behold
My lady, do mine eyes her beauty see
In truth, or dwells that loveliness in me
Which multiplies her grace a thousandfold?
Thou needs must know; for thou with her of old
Comest to stir my soul's tranquillity;
Yet would I not seek one sigh less, or be
By loss of that loved flame more simply cold.-
The beauty thou discernest, all is hers;
But grows in radiance as it soars on high
Through mortal eyes unto the soul above:
'Tis there transfigured; for the soul confers
On what she holds, her own divinity:
And this transfigured beauty wins thy love.

COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Fabrizio Frosini 03 January 2016

Michelangelo Buonarroti - Rime 42. Dimmi di grazia, Amor, se gli occhi mei Dimmi di grazia, Amor, se gli occhi mei veggono ’l ver della beltà c’aspiro, o s’io l’ho dentro allor che, dov’io miro, veggio scolpito el viso di costei. Tu ’l de’ saper, po’ che tu vien con lei5 a torm’ogni mie pace, ond’io m’adiro; né vorre’ manco un minimo sospiro, né men ardente foco chiederei. - La beltà che tu vedi è ben da quella, ma cresce poi c’a miglior loco sale,10 se per gli occhi mortali all’alma corre. Quivi si fa divina, onesta e bella, com’a sé simil vuol cosa immortale: questa e non quella agli occhi tuo precorre.

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