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Your proud banner and your ardent courage-- your strong hand--a victor's, Victoria's-- rendered all their efforts and schemes useless-- in these were revealed true strength, scorn, and wrath. Before your invulnerability war's flaming maddened desires were spent; you bled profusely, painfully, to close off our cities, rivers, mountains, and plains. The cause was no star, no luck, no-one else-- it was strength, speed, character, and genius made all you undertook end happily. Noble on earth, radiant in heaven: these are your worthy eternal rewards: the world's prizes cannot pay a real Mars. |
An image of the Italian text from Visconti's 1840 edition |
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Notes: From R XVI:55. See also V III:3; B A1, 5, 5; Visconti III, 3 Translation: Roscoe, 91 Key |
