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MICHELANGELO: Modern English Translations Michelangelo Buonarroti (1475-1564) is considered by many experts to be the greatest artist and sculptor of all time. These are modern English translations of his poems and epigrams by Michael R. Burch. SONNET: RAVISHED by Michelangelo Buonarroti (1475-1564) loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch Ravished, by all our eyes find fine and fair, yet starved for virtues pure hearts might confess, my soul can find no Jacobean stair that leads to heaven, save earth's loveliness. The stars above emit such rapturous light our longing hearts ascend on beams of Love and seek, indeed, Love at its utmost height. But where on earth does Love suffice to move a gentle heart, or ever leave it wise, save for beauty itself and the starlight in her eyes? SONNET: TO LUIGI DEL RICCIO, AFTER THE DEATH OF CECCHINO BRACCI by Michelangelo Buonarroti (1475-1564) loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch A pena prima. I had barely seen the beauty of his eyes Which unto yours were life itself, and light, When he closed them fast in death's eternal night To reopen them on God, in Paradise. In my tardiness, I wept, too late made wise, Yet the fault not mine: for death's disgusting ploy Had robbed me of that deep, unfathomable joy Which in your loving memory never dies. Therefore, Luigi, since the task is mine To make our unique friend smile on in stone Forever, brightening what dark earth would dim, And because the beloved causes love to shine, And since the artist cannot work alone, I must carve you, to tell the world of him! SONNET: BEAUTY AND THE ARTIST by Michelangelo Buonarroti (1475-1564) loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch Al cor di zolfo. A heart aflame; alas, the flesh not so; Bones brittle wood; the soul without a guide To curb the will’s inferno; the crude pride Of restless passions’ pulsing surge and flow; A witless mind that ? halt, lame, weak ? must go Blind through entrapments scattered far and wide; ... Why wonder then, when one small spark applied To such an assemblage renders it aglow? Add beauteous Art, which, Heaven-Promethean, Must exceed nature ? so divine a power Belongs to the one who strives with every nerve. Created for such Art, from childhood given As prey for her wild Inferno to devour, I blame the Mistress I was born to serve. SONNET XVI: LOVE AND ART by Michelangelo Buonarroti (1475-1564) loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch Sì come nella penna. Just as with pen and ink, there is a high, a low, and an in-between style; and, as marble yields its images pure and vile to excite the fancies artificers might think; even so, my lord, lodged deep within your heart are mingled pride and mild humility; but I draw only what I truly see when I trust my eyes and otherwise stand apart. Whoever sows the seeds of tears and sighs (bright dews that fall from heaven, crystal-clear) in various pools collects antiquities and so must reap old griefs through misty eyes; while the one who dwells on beauty, so painful here, finds ephemeral hopes and certain miseries. SONNET XXXI: LOVE'S LORDSHIP, TO TOMMASO DE' CAVALIERI by Michelangelo Buonarroti (1475-1564) loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch A che più debb' io. Why should I confess my desire with copious tears and windy words of grief, when a merciless heaven offers no relief to souls consumed by fire? Why should my aching heart aspire to death, when all must die? Beyond belief would be a death both delectable and brief, since in my compound woes all joys expire! Therefore, because I cannot dodge the blow, I rather seek whoever rules my breast, to glide between her gladness and my woe. If only chains and bonds can make me blessed, no marvel if alone and bare I go to face the foe: her captive slave oppressed. Michelangelo Epigram Translations loose translations/interpretations by Michael R. Burch I saw the angel in the marble and freed him. I hewed away the coarse walls imprisoning the lovely apparition. Each stone contains a statue; it is the sculptor’s task to release it. The danger is not aiming too high and missing, but aiming too low and hitting the mark. Our greatness is only bounded by our horizons. Be at peace, for God did not create us to abandon us. God grant that I always desire more than my capabilities. My soul’s staircase to heaven is earth’s loveliness. I live and love by God’s peculiar light. Trifles create perfection, yet perfection is no trifle. Genius is infinitely patient, and infinitely painstaking. I have never found salvation in nature; rather I love cities. He who follows will never surpass. Beauty is what lies beneath superfluities. I criticize via creation, not by fault-finding. If you knew how hard I worked, you wouldn’t call it “genius.” Keywords/Tags: Michelangelo, Italian sonnet, sonnet, sonnets, epigram, epigrams, epitaph, translation, translations, English, love, affinity and love, love and art, beauty, art, artistic work, light
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