Chapter 34 of 914

XXXIV.

XXXIV.

XXXIV.

After I had devised this sonnet, reflecting who he was to whom I intended to give it as if made for him, I saw that the service appeared to me poor and bare for a person so close akin to this lady in glory. And therefore, before I gave him the above-written sonnet, I composed two stanzas of a canzone, the one really for him, and the other for myself; although both the one and the other may appear to him who does not regard subtilely as if written for one person. But he who looks at them subtilely sees well that different persons speak; in that the one does not call her his lady, and the other does so, as is plainly apparent. This canzone and this sonnet I gave to him, saying that I had made them for him alone.

The canzone begins, “As often as,” and has two parts. In one, that is, in the first stanza, this my dear friend, her kinsman, bewails himself; in the other, I bewail myself, that is, in the second stanza, which begins “And there is intermingled.” And thus it appears that in this canzone two persons bewail themselves, one of whom bewails himself as a brother, the other as a vassal.

As often as, alas! I call to mind

     That I can nevermore

     The lady see for whom thus sad I go,

     My grieving mind doth cause so great a grief

     To gather round my heart,

     I say, “My soul, why goest thou not away,

     Seeing the torments thou wilt have to bear,

     In this world so molestful now to thee,

     Make me foreboding with a heavy fear?”

     And therefore upon Death

     I call, as to my sweet and soft repose,

     And say, “Come thou to me,” with such desire

     That I am envious of whoever dies.

And there is intermingled with my sighs

     A sound of wofulness,

     Which evermore goes calling upon Death.

     To her were all of my desires turned

     When that the lady mine

     Was overtaken by her cruelty;

     Because the pleasure of her beauteousness,

     Taking itself away from out our sight,

     Became a spiritual beauty great,

     Which through the heaven spreads

     A light of love that doth the angels greet,

     And makes their high and keen intelligence

     To marvel, of such gentleness is she.

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