L’alma ha lunga vita
Se l’immortal desio, c’alza e corregge
gli altrui pensier, traessi e’ mie di fore,
forse c’ancor nella casa d’Amore
farie pietoso chi spietato regge.
Ma perché l’alma per divina legge
ha lunga vita, e ‘l corpo in breve muore,
non può ‘l senso suo lode o suo valore
appien descriver quel c’appien non legge.
Dunche, oilmè! come sarà udita
la casta voglia che ‘l cor dentro incende
da chi sempre se stesso in altrui vede?
La mie cara giornata m’è impedita
col mie signor c’alle menzogne attende,
c’a dire il ver, bugiardo è chi nol crede.
Il vostro Michelangelo Buonarroti
If longings for the immortal, which exalt
and chasten the thoughts of others, could disclose
my own, then it could be, in the house Love knows,
they’d arouse a pity in the pitiless king.
But since the soul, by heaven’s provisioning,
has long to live, while the brief body dies,
sense coannot fully praise, can’t fitly prize, can’t fitly prize
soul seen as a blue at best – our eye at fault.
The worse for me and for innocent desire
aflame in my heart! For now how make it celar
to those who project themselves in others? My grief
is for precious hour spent queasily with my sire,
too attentive, he, to the false tongues at his ear.
Not a lie of shorts, to reject a sound belief ?
Yours Michelangelo Buonarroti
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