80. ‘Chi è fermato di menar sua vita’ (Sestina)

He who is set on living out his life

on the treacherous sea and near the rocks,

saved from death by a little vessel,

cannot be far from his own end:

unless he knows how to return to port

while the tiller still directs the sails.

The gentle breeze to which my tiller and sails

were entrusted, entering beloved life

and hoping to reach a better port,

carried me then among a thousand rocks:

and the causes of my sorrowful end

were not just outside but inside the vessel.

Trapped for a long time in this blind vessel

I wandered, not lifting my eyes to the sails

carrying me, before my time, to my end:

then it pleased Him who brought me into life

to call me back, far enough from the rocks

that some way off I could see the port.

As a light at night, burning in port,

is seen on the high seas by any vessel

if it’s not hidden by a storm or rocks,

so, from above my swelling sails,

I saw the emblem of that other life,

and then I sighed towards my end.

Not that I am yet certain of my end:

who wishes while day remains, to reach port

make’s a long voyage in so short a life:

I’m afraid, sailing so frail a vessel,

mostly I wish the wind not to fill my sails

that wind that drove me on the rocks.

If I escape alive from dangerous rocks,

and my exile comes to a good end,

I’d be content to furl my sails,

and cast anchor in any port!

If only I don’t blaze, a burning vessel:

it’s so hard for me to leave the old life.

Lord of my end, and of my life,

before my vessel shatters on the rocks,

drive me to port, with storm-tossed sails.