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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. 142-143, 354.
[For purists, the Italian text of the poems follows the English translation.]
GASPARA STAMPA, 1523-1554
Notes and translation by Lorna de’ Lucchi
[354]
Biographical Note
GASPARA STAMPA, born at Padua; studied Italian classics, Greek and Latin, at Venice; fell passionately in love with Collatino dei Conti di Collalto, to whom she addressed her poetry; her affection was not long reciprocated; she died I Padua. Her poems are the sincere and affecting expression of a real feeling, though often unpolished.
Poems
143
GASPARA STAMPA, 1523-1554
Sonetto I
LADIES, who of my lord would fain be told,
Picture a gentle knight, full sweet to see,
Though young in years, in wisdom passing old,
Model of glory and of valiancy;
Fair-haired, bright colour glowing in his face,
Tall and well-set, broad-shouldered, finally,
In all his parts a paragon of grace
Except in loving wantonly, ah me!
Who’d know myself, picture a woman wrought
In passion and in presence after pain’s
And death’s own bitter images, a port
Of safety where untroubled rest remains;
One who with neither tears, nor sighs, nor zest
Wakes pity in her cruel lover’s breast.
Sonetto II
DEEPLY repentant of my sinful ways
And of my trivial, manifold desires,
Of squandering, alas, these few brief days
Of fugitive life in tending love’s vain fires.
To Thee, Lord, Who dost move hard hearts again,
And render warmth unto the frozen snow,
And lighten every bitter load of pain
For those who with Thy sacred ardours glow,
To Thee I turn, O stretch forth Thy right hand
And from this whirlpool rescue me, for I
Without Thine aid could never reach the land;
O willingly for us didst suffer loss,
And to redeem mankind hung on the Cross,
O gentle Saviour, leave me not to die.
142
GASPARA STAMPA, 1523-1554
Sonetto I
CHI vuol conoscer, donne, il mio signore,
miri un signor di vago e dolce aspetto,
giovane d’ anni e vecchio d’ intelletto,
imagin della gloria e del valore:
di pelo biondo e di vivo colore,
di persona alta e spazïoso petto,
e finalmente in ogni opra perfetto,
fuor che un poco, oimè lassa! empio in amore.
E chi vuol poi conoscer me, rimiri
una donna in effetti ed in sembiante
imagin della morte e de’ martiri;
un albergo de fè salda e costante,
una che, perchè pianga, arda e sospiri,
non fa pietoso il suo crudele amante.
Sonetto II
MESTA se pentita de’ miei gravi errori
e del mio vaneggair tanto e sì lieve,
e d’ aver speso questo tempo breve
della vita fugace in vani amori,
a Te, Signor, che intenerisci i cori,
e rendi calda la gelata neve,
e fai soave ogni aspor peso e greve
a chiunque accendi de’ tuoi santi ardori,
ricorro, e prego che mi porghi mano
a trarmi fuor del pelago, onde uscire,
s’ io tentassi da me, sarebbe vano.
Tu volesti per noi, Signr, morire,
tu ricomprasti tutto il seme umano;
dolce Signor, non mi lasciar perire.
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