BIO
Francesco Petrarca (1304-1374) largely is remembered today for a work officially titled Rerum vulgarium fragmenta (Rvf), 366 poems which chronicle the speaker’s unrequited love for a beautiful, married, and devout woman named Laura during her lifetime and long after she died of bubonic plague.
BIO
Lee Harlin Bahan has had two collections of Petrarch translations published, A Year of Mourning (Able Muse Press, 2017), a sonnet sequence grieving Laura’s death, and To Wrestle with the Angel (Finishing Line Press, 2018), sonnets from Petrarch’s first poetry collection. Lee’s translation of Rvf 77, “On Simone Martini’s Portrait of Laura,” first appeared in The Hudson Review and opens To Wrestle with the Angel. The translations here are from Lee’s new Petrarch project, Lent.
Francesco Petrarca’s poems are translated from the original Italian into English by Lee Harlin Bahan.
330: Tygre! Tygre!
That sidelong, sweet, dear, honest look appeared
to say, “You won’t see any more of me
once your late feet have shuffled off, so be
sure to take what you can from me while here.”
O mind that leaps more quickly than a leopard,
slow to catch on to your calamity,
how is it that you only presently
spot in her eyes what melts and burns me up?
The mute stars, twinkling more than usual,
chimed in, “O friendly lights, which we reflected
with such sweetness for so long, in your
opinion, we too early were expected
where God forges and dissolves terrestrial
links, and to incense you, wills that yours mature.”
330
Quel vago, dolce, caro, onesto sguardo
dir parea: “To’ di me quel che tu poi,
che mai più qui non mi vedrai da poi
ch’avrai quinci il pe’ mosso a mover tardo.”
Intelletto veloce più che pardo,
pigro in antivedere i dolor tuoi,
come non vedestu nelli occhi suoi
quel che ved’ ora, ond’io mi struggo et ardo?
Taciti, sfavillando oltra lor modo,
dicean: “O luni amici che gran tempo
con tal dolcezza feste di noi specchi,
“il Ciel n’aspetta; a voi parrà per tempo,
ma chi ne strinse qui dissolve il nodo,
e ‘l vostro, per farv’ ira, vuol che ‘nvecchi.”
341: Joshua 10:12-13
What mercy, what angel so speedily
carried my heartache beyond the blue?
I feel that my lady turns as she used to,
empty of pride, so full of humility
that with a sweet, innocent gesture she
appeases my pinched, sad heart, and I rescue
myself from Death, so that, in short, I pursue
life, and living no longer grates on me.
Blessed is she on seeing whom others partake
of bliss, just hearing her words, and none
but the two of us can tell what sense they make:
“I’m deeply sorry, my dear, faithful one,
but I was hard on you for both our sakes,”
she says, and other things to halt the sun.
341
Deh, qual pietà, qual angel fu sì presto
a portar sopra ‘l cielo il mio cordoglio?
ch’ ancor sento tornar pur come soglio
Madonna in quel suo atto dolce onesto
Ad acquetare il cor misero et mesto,
piena sì d’umiltà, vota d’argoglio,
e ‘n somma tal ch’ a morte i’ mi ritoglio,
et vivo, et ‘l viver più non m’è molesto.
Beata s’è che po beare altrui
co la sua vista, o ver co le parole
intellette da noi soli ambedui:
“Fedel mio caro, assai di te mi dole;
ma pur per nostro ben dura ti fui,”
dice, et cos’ altre d’arrestare il sole.
*****
