Pound's Cavalcanti: An Edition of the Translation, Notes, and Essays
336
Pound's Cavalcanti: An Edition of the Translation, Notes, and Essays
336Paperback
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Originally published in 1983.
The Princeton Legacy Library uses the latest print-on-demand technology to again make available previously out-of-print books from the distinguished backlist of Princeton University Press. These editions preserve the original texts of these important books while presenting them in durable paperback and hardcover editions. The goal of the Princeton Legacy Library is to vastly increase access to the rich scholarly heritage found in the thousands of books published by Princeton University Press since its founding in 1905.
Product Details
| ISBN-13: | 9780691613529 |
|---|---|
| Publisher: | Princeton University Press |
| Publication date: | 07/14/2014 |
| Series: | Princeton Legacy Library , #846 |
| Pages: | 336 |
| Sales rank: | 771,496 |
| Product dimensions: | 6.20(w) x 9.10(h) x 0.90(d) |
Read an Excerpt
Pound's Cavalcanti
An Edition of the Translation, Notes, and Essays
By David Anderson
PRINCETON UNIVERSITY PRESS
Copyright © 1983 Princeton University PressAll rights reserved.
ISBN: 978-0-691-06519-9
CHAPTER 1
SONETTO I
Voi, che per gli occhi miei passaste al core,
E svegliaste la mente che dormìa,
Guardate a L'angosciosa vita mia,
Che sospirando la distrugge Amore:
5 E' va tagliando di sì gran valore
Che i deboluzzi spiriti van via:
Campa figura nova in signoria,
E boce è quando mostra lo dolore:
Questa vertù d'Amor che m'ha disfatto,
10 Da' vostri occhi gentil presta si mosse,
Lanciato m'ha d'un dardo entro lo fianco;
Sì giunse il colpo dritto al primo tratto
Che l'anima tremando si riscosse,
Veggendo morto il cor nel lato manco.
[1910 and 1910 TS. copies c]
SONNET [I]
You, who to reach my heart pass through the eyes
And rouse the mind from sleep's security,
Lo, all my life lies bound in agony.
Love bears it down with overbearing sighs
5 And slasheth in his going with such might
That all my smothered senses turn to flight.
New is the face that's set in seigniory,
And new the voice that maketh loud my grief.
Love, who hath drawn me down in devious ways,
10 Might from your noble eyes so swiftly come!
See, he hath hurled his dart, wherefrom my pain
First shot's resultant! And in flanked amaze
See how my af[f] righted soul recoileth from
That sinister side wherein the heart lies slain.
[1912 SBb]
SONNET I
You, who do breach mine eyes and touch the heart,
And start the mind from her brief reveries,
Might pluck my life and agony apart,
Saw you how love assaileth her with sighs,
5 And lays about him with so brute a might
That all my wounded senses turn to flight.
There's a new face upon the seigniory,
And new is the voice that maketh loud my grief.
Love, who hath drawn me down through devious ways,
10 Hath from your noble eyes so swiftly come!
'Tis he hath hurled the dart, wherefrom my pain,
First shot's resultant! and in flanked amaze
See how my affrighted soul recoileth from
That sinister side wherein the heart lies slain.
SONETTO II
Io vidi gli occhi dove Amor si mise,
Quando mi fece di sé pauroso,
Che mi sguardar come fosse annoioso;
Allora dico che il cor si divise;
5 E se non fosse che donna mi rise,
Io parlerei di tal guisa doglioso,
Ch'Amor medesmo ne faria cruccioso,
Che fe' l'immaginar che mi conquise.
Dal ciel si mosse un spirito in quel punto,
10 Che quella donna mi degnò guardare,
E vennesi a posar nel mio pensiero.
E lì mi conta sì d'amor lo vero,
Che ogni sua vertù veder mi pare,
Sì come fossi dentro al suo cor giunto.
[1912 SB]
SONNET II
I saw the eyes, where Amor took his place
When love's might bound me with the fear thereof,
Look out at me as they were weary of love.
I say: The heart rent him as he looked on this,
5 And were't not that my Lady lit her grace,
Smiling upon me with her eyes grown glad,
Then were my speech so dolorously clad
That Love should mourn amid his victories.
The instant that she deigned to bend her eyes
10 Toward me, a spirit from high heaven rode
And chose my thought the place of his abode
With such deep parlance of love's verities
That all Love's powers did my sight accost
As though I'd won unto his heart's mid-most.
SONETTO III
O donna mia, non vedestù colui,
Che su lo core mi tenea la mano,
Quand'io ti rispondea fiochetto e piano
Per la temenza de gli colpi sui?
5 El fu Amore, che trovando vui
Meco ristette, che venìa lontano
A guisa d'uno arcier presto soriana,
Acconcio sol per ancidere altrui.
E trasse poi degli occhi miei sospiri,
10 I quai si gittan da lo cor sì forte,
Ch'io mi partii sbigottito fuggendo.
Allor mi parse di seguir la morte,
Accompagnata di quelli martìri,
Che soglion consumar altrui piangendo.
[1920 Umbra]
SONNET III
O Lady mine, doth not thy sight allege
Him who hath set his hand upon my heart,
When dry words rattle in my throat and start
And shudder for the terror of his edge?
5 He was Amor, who since he found you, dwells
Ever with me, and he was come from far;
An archer is he as the Scythians are
Whose only joy is killing someone else.
My sobbing eyes are drawn upon his wrack,
10 And such harsh sighs upon my heart he casteth
That I depart from that sad me he wasteth,
With Death drawn close upon my wavering track,
Leading such tortures in his sombre train
As, by all custom, wear out other men.
SONETTO IV
S'io priego questa donna che pietate
Non sia nemica del suo cor gentile,
Tu di' ch'io sono sconoscente e vile
E disperato e pien di vanitate.
5 Onde ti vien sì nova crudeltate?
Già rassimigli a chi ti vede umile,
Saggia e adorna ed accorta e sottile
E fatta a modo di soavitate.
L'anima mia dolente e paurosa
10 Piange nei sospiri che nel cor trova,
Sì che bagnati di pianto escon fòre:
Allor mi par che ne la mente piova
Una figura di donna pensosa
Che vegna per veder morir lo core.
[1910 and 1910 TS. copies c]
SONNET IV
If I should pray this Lady now that mercy
Should be no foeman of her noble heart,
You'd say that I am base and ignorant
And past all hope and filled with vanity.
5 Where find you now this novel cruelty,
For still you humble seem, to whom so sees you
Wise, and adorned, alert and subtle even,
And fashioned out in ways of gentleness.
My soul weeps through his sighs for grief and fear
10 And all those sighs which in the heart are found
Deep drenche[d] with tear forth issue sighing,
And then, meseems, there raineth down a clear
Image of a lady thoughtful, bound
Hither to keep death watch o'er that heart's dying.
[1912 SBb]
SONNET IV
If I should pray this lady pitiless
That Mercy to her heart be no more foeman,
You'd call me clownish, vile, and say that no man
Was so past hope and filled with vanities.
5 Where find you now these novel cruelties?
For still you seem humility's true leaven,
Wise and adorned, alert and subtle even,
And fashioned out in ways of gentleness.
My soul weeps through her sighs for grievous fear
10 And all those sighs, which in the heart were found,
Deep drenched with tears do sobbing thence depart,
Then seems that on my mind there rains a clear
Image of a lady, thoughtful, bound
Hither to keep death-watch upon that heart.
SONETTO V
Gli miei folli occhi, che 'n prima guardaro
Vostra figura piena di valore,
Fur quei che di voi, donna, m'accusaro
Nel fiero loco ove tien corte Amore.
5 Immantenente avanti a lui mostraro
Ch'io era fatto vostro servitore,
Perche sospiri e dolor mi pigliaro
Vedendo che temenza avea lo core.
Menarmi tosto senza riposanza
10 In una parte là 've trovai gente,
Che ciaschedun si dolea d'Amor forte,
Quando mi vider, tutti con pietanza
Dissermi: "Fatto sei di tal servente,
Che non dèi mai sperare altro che morte.'
[1910 W and 1910 TS. copies ?]
SONNET V
My most rash eyes, yea they who first regarded
That face of yours which is so full of power,
Were those, O Lady, that accused me of you
In that harsh place where Amor holdeth court:
5 And there before him they adduced the proof
That I was he, who was made your servitor,
Sith sighs and grief had made me prisioner;
Albeit fear already held the heart.
And then sans respite did they drag me swiftly
10 Apart and to a place where I found people
Whereof each one made great lament of love,
Who, when they saw me, cried all, piteously;
"Now are thou servant unto such a one,
Thou'lt have none other lord save only death."
[1920 Umbra]
SONNET V
Lady, my most rash eyes, the first who used
To look upon thy face, the power-fraught,
Were, Lady, those by whom I was accused
In that proud keep where Amor holdeth court.
5 And there before him was their proof adduced,
And judgment wrote me down: "Bondslave" to thee,
Though still I stay Grief's prisoner, unloosed,
And Fear hath lien upon the heart of me.
For the which charges, and without respite,
10 They dragged me to a place where a sad horde
Of such as love and whom Love tortureth
Cried out, all pitying as I met their sight,
"Now art thou servant unto such a Lord
Thou'lt have none other one save only Death."
SONETTO VI
Tu m'hai sì piena di dolor la mente
Che l'anima sen briga di partire:
E gli sospir che manda il cor dolente
Dicono a gli occhi che non puon soffrire.
5 Amore, che lo tuo gran valor sente,
Dice: "El mi duol che ti convien morire
Per questa bella donna, che neente
Pur, che pietate di te voglia udire."
Io fo come colui ch'è fuor di vita,
10 Che mostra a chi lo guarda, ched el sia
Fatto di pietra, o di rame, o di legno:
E porto ne lo core una ferita,
Che si conduca sol per maestria,
Che sia, com'egli è morto, aperto segno.
[1910 and 1910 TS. copies c]
SONNET VI
Thou hast my mind so high heaped up with grief,
That my soul irks him to be on the road,
Mine eyes cry out: "We can not bear the load
Of sighs the grievous heart sends down on us."
5 Love, who is to thy great worth sens[i]tive,
Saith, "Sorrow is mine that thou must take thy death
From this fair lady who will hear no breath
In argument for aught save pitying thee."
[1912 SBb]
SONNET VI
Thou fill'st my mind with griefs so populous
That my soul irks him to be on the road.
Mine eyes cry out, "We cannot bear the load
Of sighs the grievous heart sends upon us."
5 Love, sensitive to thy nobility,
Saith, "Sorrow is mine that thou must take thy death
From this fair lady who will hear no breath
In argument for aught save pitying thee."
And I, as one beyond life's compass thrown,
10 Seem but a thing that's fashioned to design,
Melted of bronze or carven in tree or stone.
A wound I bear within this heart of mine
Which by its mastering quality is grown
To be of that heart's death an open sign.
SONETTO VII
Chi è questa che vien, ch'ogni uom la mira,
Che fa di clarità l'aer tremare!
E mena seco Amor, sì che parlare
Null'uom ne puote, ma ciascun sospira?
5 Ahi Dio, che sembra quando gli occhi gira!
Dicalo Amor, ch'io nol saprei contare;
Cotanto d'umiltà donna mi pare,
Che ciascun'altra in vêr di lei chiam'ira.
Non si potria contar la sua piacenza,
10 Ch'a lei s'inchina ogni gentil virtute,
E la beltate per sua Dea la mostra.
Non fu sì alta già la mente nostra,
E non si è posta in noi tanta salute,
Che propriamente n'abbiam conoscenza.
[1910 W]
SONNET VII
Who is she coming, whom all gaze upon,
Who makes the whole air tremulous with light,
And leadeth with her Love, so no man hath
Power of speech, but each one sigheth?
5 Ah God! the thing she's like when her eyes turn,
Let Amor
tell! Tis past mine utterance:
And so she seems mistress of modesty
That every other woman is named "Wrath."
Her charm could never be a thing to tell
10 For all the noble powers lean toward her.
Beauty displays her for an holy sign.
Our daring ne'er before did look so high;
But ye! there is not in you so much grace
That we can understand her rightfully.
[1910 Provença]
SONNET: CHI È QUESTA?
Who is she coming, that the roses bend
Their shameless heads to do her passing honour?
Who is she coming with a light upon her
Not born of suns that with the day's end end?
5 Say, is it Love who hath chosen the nobler part?
Say, is it Love, that was divinity,
Who hath left his godhead that his home might be
The shameless rose of her unclouded heart?
If this be Love, where hath he won such grace?
10 If this be Love, how is the evil wrought,
That all men write against his darkened name?
If this be Love, if this....
O mind give place!
What holy mystery e'er was noosed in thought?
Own that thou scan'st her not, nor count it shame!
[1912 SB]
SONNET VII
Who is she coming, drawing all men's gaze,
Who makes the air one trembling clarity
Till none can speak but each sighs piteously
Where she leads Love adown her trodden ways?
5 Ah God! The thing she's like when her glance strays,
Let Amor tell. 'Tis no fit speech for me.
Mistress she seems of such great modesty
That every other woman were called "Wrath."
No one could ever tell the charm she hath
10 For all the noble powers bend toward her,
She being beauty's godhead manifest.
Our daring ne'er before held such high quest;
But ye! There is not in you so much grace
That we can understand her rightfully.
[1932 Rime]
SONNET VII
Who is she that comes, makyng turn every man's eye
And makyng the air to tremble with a bright clearenesse
That leadeth with her Love, in such nearness
No man may proffer of speech more than a sigh?
5 Ah God, what she is like when her owne eye turneth, is
Fit for Amor to speake, for I can not at all;
Such is her modesty, I would call
Every woman else but an useless uneasiness.
No one could ever tell all of her pleasauntness
10 In that every high noble vertu leaneth to herward,
So Beauty sheweth her forth as her Godhede;
Never before was our mind so high led,
Nor have we so much of heal as will afford
That our thought may take her immediate in its embrace.
(Continues...)
Excerpted from Pound's Cavalcanti by David Anderson. Copyright © 1983 Princeton University Press. Excerpted by permission of PRINCETON UNIVERSITY PRESS.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
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Table of Contents
Contents
Acknowledgments, vii,Editor's Introduction, ix,
Abbreviations, xxxi,
Forewords and Prefaces, 3,
The "Introduction" to Sonnets and Ballate, 11,
The Translations, 21,
Appendix I: Four Short Poems, 183,
Appendix II: Other Canzoni, 193,
"Cavalcanti" from Make It New, 203,
"Notes" from "The Complete Works of Guido Cavalcanti", 253,
"The Text and Its Tradition" and Other Essays from "The Complete Works of Guido Cavalcanti", 277,
Index of First Lines, 289,
Subject Index, 291,