119. ‘Una donna piú bella assai che ’l sole’

A lady lovelier than the sun,

and more radiant, and of the same age,

with her famous beauty

drew me, unripe, into her company.

Then in thought, in actions, in speech,

(since she is a rare thing in this world)

in a thousand ways,

she was noble and graceful, to my mind.

For her alone I changed from what I was,

once I had suffered her eyes to touch me:

and for love of her I set myself,

early enough, to weary labour:

such that if I reach the longed-for harbour,

I hope to live, through her,

for many years, when others think me dead.

This lady of mine led me for many years,

filled with the burning ardour of youth,

as I now understand,

only to have more certain proof of my worth,

showing me her shadow or her veil or dress

at times, but hiding her face:

and I, alas, believing

I saw enough, passed all my early life

contentedly, and I recall my joy,

now I have seen more of her within.

I say that recently

she revealed to me

what I had not seen until that time,

so that ice sprang up in my heart,

and is there even now,

and will always be till I am in her arms.

But fear and cold did not prevent me

from feeling so much confidence in my heart

that I threw myself at her feet

to gather more sweetness from her eyes:

and she, who had already removed her veil

before me, said to me: ‘Friend, now see

how beautiful I am, and ask

whatever is fitting for your years.’

‘My lady,’ I said, ‘my love has been yours

already for many years, and now I feel

so enamoured, that in this state the power

to wish or not wish has been taken from me.’

Then she replied in a voice

of such marvellous tones, and with that glance

that always makes me fear and hope:

‘Few among the great crowd in this world,

hearing tell of my worth

have not felt at least a spark

for a brief moment in their heart:

but my adversary, whom it truly disturbs,

soon quenches it, so that all virtue dies,

and another lord reigns

who promises a more tranquil life.

But Love who first opened your mind

has told me truly of it,

so that I see your great desire

will make you worthy to end in honour:

and since you are already one of my few friends,

I see signs of a lady

who will make a happier road for your eyes.’

I wished to say: ‘That is not possible’:

but she said: ‘Now see, and raise your eyes a little

to a more hidden place,

a lady who is only ever shown to a few.’

I had to lower my head in shame,

feeling a new and greater flame within:

and she took it in jest

saying: ‘I see how it is with you, indeed.

Just as the sun with his powerful rays

makes all the other stars suddenly vanish,

so now my lovely face

seems less that a greater light outshines.

Yet you do not leave me still,

since one birth produced

us both together, she first, and then me.’

Meanwhile the knot of shame was broken

that had tied my tongue so tightly

in that first moment of disgrace,

when she had noticed my new passion:

and I began: ‘If what I hear is true,

blessed be the Father, and blessed be the day

that the world was graced by you,

and all those hours I ran to find you:

and if I’ve ever turned from the true way,

I regret it deeply, more than I can show:

but if I might hear more so as to become

worthy of you, I burn with that desire.’

She replied thoughtfully, and so held

her sweet gaze fixed on me

that her look entered my heart with her words:

‘As it pleases our eternal Father,

each one of us was born immortal.

Wretch, what is that worth to you?

It would have been better for us if that were lacking.

We were once beloved, lovely,

young and graceful: and now are such

that she beats her wings

to return to her former home:

and I am only a shade. Now I have spoken

all you can understand in this short time.’

Then she moved her feet,

and saying: ‘Don’t fear that I’ll depart’

she culled a garland of green laurel,

which with her own hand

she wound round and round my temples.

Song, if someone calls your speech obscure,

say: ‘I don’t care, since I soon hope

another messenger

will reveal the truth in a clearer voice.

I only come to wake others,

if he who wrote this

did not deceive me when I left him.’

Note: The two ladies are Glory and Virtue. The adversary is Pleasure and the new lord Idleness. The messenger is a further poem.

‘Idleness (Acedia)’ - Hendrick Goltzius (Dutch, 1558 - 1617), The Rijksmuseum