Xxxiv. _Love's Furnace._ Poem by Michelangelo Buonarroti
Xxxiv. _Love's Furnace._
Sì amico al freddo sasso.
So friendly is the fire to flinty stone,
That, struck therefrom and kindled to a blaze,
It burns the stone, and from the ash doth raise
What lives thenceforward binding stones in one:
Kiln-hardened this resists both frost and sun,
Acquiring higher worth for endless days-
As the purged soul from hell returns with praise,
Amid the heavenly host to take her throne.
E'en so the fire struck from my soul, that lay
Close-hidden in my heart, may temper me,
Till burned and slaked to better life I rise.
If, made mere smoke and dust, I live to-day,
Fire-hardened I shall live eternally;
Such gold, not iron, my spirit strikes and tries.
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4/26/2024 9:58:59 AM # 1.0.0.1119
Michelangelo Buonarroti - Rime 63. Sì amico al freddo sasso è 'l foco interno Sì amico al freddo sasso è ’l foco interno che, di quel tratto, se lo circumscrive, che l’arda e spezzi, in qualche modo vive, legando con sé gli altri in loco etterno. E se ’n fornace dura, istate e verno5 vince, e ’n più pregio che prima s’ascrive, come purgata infra l’altre alte e dive alma nel ciel tornasse da l’inferno. Così tratto di me, se mi dissolve il foco, che m’è dentro occulto gioco,10 arso e po’ spento aver più vita posso. Dunche, s’i’ vivo, fatto fummo e polve, etterno ben sarò, s’induro al foco; da tale oro e non ferro son percosso.