Michelangelo Buonarroti

(1475-1564 / Italy)

Xlix. _Love's Excuse._ - Poem by Michelangelo Buonarroti

Dal dolcie pianto.

From happy tears to woeful smiles, from peace
Eternal to a brief and hollow truce,
How have I fallen!-when 'tis truth we lose,
Sense triumphs o'er all adverse impulses.
I know not if my heart bred this disease,
That still more pleasing grows with growing use;
Or else thy face, thine eyes, which stole the hues
And fires of Paradise-less fair than these.
Thy beauty is no mortal thing; 'twas sent
From heaven on high to make our earth divine:
Wherefore, though wasting, burning, I'm content;
For in thy sight what could I do but pine?
If God himself thus rules my destiny,
Who, when I die, can lay the blame on thee?

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Comments about Xlix. _Love's Excuse._ by Michelangelo Buonarroti

  • Fabrizio Frosini (12/31/2015 3:35:00 PM)


    Michelangelo Buonarroti - Rime (XVI secolo)
    78. Dal dolce pianto al doloroso riso


    Dal dolce pianto al doloroso riso,
    da una etterna a una corta pace
    caduto son: là dove ’l ver si tace,
    soprasta ’l senso a quel da lui diviso.
    Né so se dal mie core o dal tuo viso5
    la colpa vien del mal, che men dispiace
    quante più cresce, o dall’ardente face
    de gli occhi tuo rubati al paradiso.
    La tuo beltà non è cosa mortale,
    ma fatta su dal ciel fra noi divina; 10
    ond’io perdendo ardendo mi conforto,
    c’appresso a te non esser posso tale.
    Se l’arme il ciel del mie morir destina,
    chi può, s’i’ muoio, dir c’abbiate il torto?
    (Report) Reply

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Poem Submitted: Tuesday, August 31, 2010



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