Michelangelo Buonarroti
Xxv. _The Transfiguration Of Beauty:_ - Poem by Michelangelo Buonarroti
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.
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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. (Report) Reply