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From An Anthology of Italian Poems 13th-19th Century selected and translated by Lorna de’ Lucchi, Alfred A. Knopf, New York; 1922; pp. 12-15, 347.


[For purists, the Italian text of the poems follows the English translation.]



RINALDO D’ AQUINO, XIIIth Century

Notes and translation by Lorna de’ Lucchi

347

Biographical Note

RINALDO D’ AQUINO, a “falconiere” (hawker) of Frederick II.; died probably in 1279 or 1280. The poem quoted was probably written in 1242 when Thomas of Aquino was sent to the East as Frederick’s representative at the head of a small army.




Poem

13

RINALDO D’ AQUINO, XIIIth Century

Canzone

O COMFORT doth avail me nought,
For mirth I am not fain:
The ships now gathered into port
Will hoist their sails again.
Full many a wight afar will go
To lands beyond the sea:
Alas, so deeply versed in woe,
What will become of me?
      To other countries they are borne
Yet tell me not a word,
So I remain behind forlorn,
The while my sighs are heard
Tormenting me all through the night,
Tormenting me by day;
Nor heaven nor earth I see aright,
I know not where I stray.
      O holy, holy God, O Thou
Who art the Virgin’s own,
Do Thou protect my love since now
I have been left alone:
O high and mighty potentate,
O God of awe and fear,
I pray Thee be compassionate
Towards my love so dear!
      The cross that saveth everyone
Doth lead me from the way;
The cross for me hath sorrow won,
In vain to God I pray.
O pilgrim cross, why hast thou, say,
Brought me to such a plight?
I burn, I am consumed away,
Most miserable wight!
15       The Emperor doth with his peace
The whole wide world sustain;
But unto me doth war increase
Because my hope is ta’en.
O high and mighty potentate,
O God of awe and fear,
I pray thee be compassionate
Towards my love so dear!
      O certes then I did not know,
When he the cross was fain
To clasp, he who did love me so
And whom I loved again,
That it would deal a blow so sore
And hold me captive fast
In prison-close for evermore
Until my life were past.
      The ships at anchor lie, but soon
To sea they will put out,
And with them will depart my boon
And other folk no doubt;
O Father, Who createst all,
Bring them to port again
Who serve Thy holy cross withal
And thereto are right fain!
      But, sweet, since thou dost understand
My sorrow, fashion, pray,
A sonnet, to the Syrian land
Then let it find its way,
Because henceforward rest to me
Nor day nor night doth bring,
In lands that lie beyond the sea
My life makes tarrying!








12

RINALDO D’ AQUINO, XIIIth Century

Canzone


G mai non mi conforto,
nè mi voglio rallegrare:
le navi son giunt al porto
e vogliono colare.
Vassene lo più gente
in terra d’ oltre mare:
oi me, lassa dolente,
e como degio fare?
      Vassene in altra contrata
e no lo mi manda a dire,
ed io rimagno ingannata,
tanti sono li sospire
che mi fanno gran guerra
la notte co’ la dia;
nè ’n cielo ned in terra,
non mi pare ch’ io sia.
      Santus, santus, santus Deo
qui in Vergine venisti,
salve e guarda l’ amor meo
poi da me lo dipartisti:
oi alta potestade,
temuta e dottata,
il dolze mi’ amistade
ti sia raccomandata!
      La croce salva la gente
e me face disviare;
la croce mi fa dolente,
e non mi val Dio pregare.
Oi croce pellegrina,
perchè m’ hai sì distrutta?
oi me, lassa tapina!
ch’ i’ ardo e ’ncendo tutta!
14       Lo ’mperadore con pace
tutto lo mondo mantene;
ed a me guerra face
chè m’ à tolta mia spene.
Oi alta potestade,
temuta e dottata,
lo mio dolze amistate
vi sia raccomandata!
      Quando la croce pigliao
certo no lo pensai
quelli che tanto m’ amao
ed i’ lui tanto amai,
ch’ i’ ne fuie battuta
e messa in pregionia
e ’n celato tenuta
per la vita mia.
      Le navi so’ a le colle
in bon’ ora possan andare,
e lo mio amore co’ ’lle
e la gente che v’ ha andare;
o Padre criatore,
a santo porto ’l duce,
che vanno a servidore
de la tua santa croce!
      Però ti priego, dolcetto,
che sai la pena mia,
che me ne facce un sonetto
e mandilo in Soria,
ch’ io non posso abentare
la notte nè la dia,
in terra d’ oltre mare
istà la vita mia.






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