o, I divine in thee flowers, verdant sprays, All things that are most beautiful and bright; Thy face is clearer than the sun's own rays, Who sees thee not may well bemoan his plight! There is no being upon earth below

So rich as thou in loveliness and grace :
Who feareth love, from fear doth straightly go
When he hath been consoled by thy sweet face.
The maids who tarry in thy company
For thy dear sake are pleasing in my sight,
And I would beg them of their courtesy
To honour thee each one with all her might
And 'neath thy sway contentedly to fall,
Because thou art the mistress of them all.

CECCO ANGIOLIERI. Late XIIIth Century

I

F I were fire, I'd burn the world; if wind,
Around about it furiously I'd blow;

If water, drowning it would suit my mind;
If God, then I'd dispatch it straight below;
If I were pope, I'd have a bit of fun
By setting Christians one against another;
If emp❜ror, well, what think ye I'd have done?
All heads chopped off, and so an end to bother!
I would go seek my father were I death;
But were I life from him I'd flee away;
And I'd behave the same towards my mother;
If Cecco, as I am and draw my breath,
I'd choose such ladies as are young and gay,
Leaving the old and ugly to another.

LAPO GIANNI. Secolo XIII, seconda metà

Q

UESTA rosa novella,

che fa piacer sua gaia giovanezza,
mostra che gentilezza,

amor, sia nata per virtù di quella.
S'i' fossi sufficiente

di raccontar sua maraviglia nova,
diria come natura l' ha adornata ;
ma io non son possente

di saper allegar verace prova :
dillo tu, Amor, che serà me' laudata.
Ben dico una fiata

levando gli occhi per mirarla fiso,
presemi 'l dolce riso

e li occhi suoi lucenti come stella. Allor bassai li mei

per lo tuo raggio che mi giunse al core entro in quel punto ch' io la riguardai. Tu dicesti: "Costei

mi piace signoreggi 'l tuo valore,

e servo alla tua vita le sarai.”

Ond' io ringrazio assai,

dolce signor, la tua somma grandezza,

ch' i' vivo in allegrezza,

pensando a cui mia alma hai fatt' ancella.

Ballata giovincella,

dirai a quella ch' ha bionda la trezza,

ch' Amor, per la sua altezza,

m' ha comandato i' sia servente d' ella.

LAPO GIANNI. Late XIIIth Century

HIS tender rose,

Whose merry-hearted youth is framed to please,

O Love, with ease

Proveth how from her virtue sweetness flows.

Had I but power

To laud her virgin wonder, I would show
How Nature decked her in all wond'rous ways;
But I've no dower

Of wisdom whence truth may be proven, so
Speak thou, O Love, and worthier her praise.
But how to gaze

On her I once did turn my eyes, the grace
Of her sweet face

And starry eyes beholding, I will tell.

Then I lowered mine,

Because this heart was pierced with radiancy

In the same moment I beheld her face.

"O'er will of thine,"

Didst say,

"this Lady shall have seignory

And thou shalt be her slave a whole life's space."

Thanks for this grace,

To thee, omnipotent, sweet lord, I give
And gaily live,

Thinking of her my soul doth serve so well.

Go, little song,

And unto her of the gold curls draw nigh,

Saying almighty Love hath willed that I
To her belong.

FOLGORE DA SAN GIMIGNANO, Scriveva tra il 1309-1317

D

I giugno siati in tale campagnetta

che ve sien corbi et arghironcelli, le chiane intorno senza caravelli, entro 'l mezzo s' abbia una isoletta ; de la qual esca si forte venetta che mille parte faccia e ramicelli d'aqua di solfo e cotai gorgoncelli sì ch' ella adacqui ben tal contradetta. Sorbi e pruni acerbi siano lie, nespole crude e cornie savorose; le rughe sian fangose e strette vie, le genti ve sien nere gavinose, e faccianvesi tante villanie

che a Dio et al mondo siano nogliose.

DANTE ALIGHIERI, 1265-1321

D

ONNE, ch' avete intelletto d'amore, i' vo' con voi de la mia donna dire; non perch' io creda sua laude finire, ma ragionar per isfogar la mente. Io dico che, pensando il suo valore, amor si dolce mi si fa sentire, che, s' io allora non perdessi ardire, farei parlando innamorar la gente. E io non vo' parlar sì altamente, ch' io divenisse per temenza vile; ma tratterò del suo stato gentile a respetto di lei leggeramente, donne e donzelle amorose, con vui, chè non è cosa da parlarne altrui.

FOLGORE DA SAN GIMIGNANO (Wrote between 1309 and 1317)

N June a little countryside for you

I

Where crows and herons are content to wile,

With swamps whereon no wherries float, 'tis true,
But having in their midst a little isle

From whence so bountiful a streamlet leaps
That in a thousand rills it branches out
And with sulphuric waves and whirlpools steeps
The fields in plenteous moisture; round about
Do bitter sloes and crude crab-apples grow,
With unripe medlars and sour cherries too;
Each narrow pathway mud-bespattered wends,
With swollen throats and grimy faces go
The uncouth country-folk and wreak on you
Such villainy as God and man offends.

DANTE ALIGHIERI, 1265-1321

LADIES who are learnèd in Love's lore,
I fain would tell you of Madonna; nay,
I think not to complete her praise to-day,
But reason so my mind unburdened be.
Know this, whene'er I count her virtues o'er,
Love makes his presence felt in tenderest way,
If only more of valour in me lay

I would speak out and no heart go hence free;
But such proud words shall not go forth from me
Lest my speech fall a prey to coward-fear.

I will but speak of her sweet nature here,

Regarding her in all humility,

With you, dear Dames and Damozels, because

'Tis matter for none other ears save yours.