Note 4 — CONTRIBUTIONS TO THE EDINBURGH REVIEW (continued 2)

.sp 1

‘Gli occhi di ch’io parlai si caldamente

E le braccia, e le mani, e i piedi, e ‘l viso

Che m’ havean si da me stesso diviso,

E fatto singular fra l’ altra gente;

Le crispe chiome d’ or puro lucente,

E ‘l lampeggiar de l’ angelico riso,

Che solean far in terra un paradiso,

Poco pulvere son che nulla sente!

Ed io pur vivo! onde mi doglio e sdegno.

Rimaso senza ‘l lume, ch’ amai tanto,

In gran fortuna, e ‘n disarmato legno.

Or sia qui fine al mio amoroso canto.

Secca e la vena de l’ usato ingegno

E la cetera mia rivolta in pianto.’

Literally as follows. ‘Those eyes of which I spoke so warmly, and the arms, and the hands, and the feet, and the face, which have robbed me of myself, and made me different from others; those crisped locks of pure shining gold, and the lightning of that angelical smile, which used to make a heaven upon earth, are now a little dust which feels nothing!—And I still remain! whence I lament and disdain myself, left without the light which I loved so much, in a troubled sea, and with dismantled bark. Here then must end all my amorous songs. Dry is the vein of my exhausted genius, and my lyre answers only in lamentations!’