When my sun's chariot crossed our sky, warmed
this world, his regal fire offended
some eyes, others were allured and deceived,
their vision colored by envy: none could
perceive his integrity or value
his strength: without him the world is cold and
bleak, and now honest and therefore lovely
need makes the best venerate, the lesser
in loss see their mistake. Death makes courage
valued and famous: devouring time
which buries men's names has not insisted
on her laws, forbade venom to come near.
The brightest chivalry could not match yours:
limitless daring drove you from my arms.
|An image of the Italian text from Visconti's 1840 edition|
From V XI:11. See also B A1:43:24; R XXIIII:76 Translation: Thérault 443. Key