Friday, September 14, 2018

Sonnet addressed to Beatrice’s attendant women, Dante, La Vita Nuova, XXI

Women, my eyes bring you my lady Love.
They bring what they behold.
When she passes everyone turns,
and those she greets tremble to their hearts,
forced to lower their white faces
and sigh for every defect they possess.
Pride and anger flee before her.
Help me, women, help me honor her!

Every sweetness, every humble thought
is born in the heart of them to whom she speaks.
Who praises first is the one who saw her first.
Her image when she smiles a little
can’t be conveyed or held in mind
a new and noble miracle!

Dante, La Vita Nuova, XX1
Ne li occhi porta las mia donna Amore,
per che si fa entil ciò ch’ella mira;
Ov’ella passa, ogn’om ver lei si gira,
E cui saluta fa tremar lo core,
Si che, bassando il viso, tutto smore,
E d’ogni suo difetto allor sospira:
Fugge dinanzi a lei superbia ed ira.
Aiutatemi, donne, farle onore.
Ogne dolcezza, ogne pensero umile
Nasce nel core a chi parlar la sente,
ond’è laudo chi prima la vide.
Quel ch’ella par quando un poco sorride,
Non si pò dicer nè tenere a mente,
Si è novo miracolo e gentile