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The heroic acts, and golden trophies, triumphal parades, fabulous booty, the sacred laurel on the noble brow made everyone burn for paeans like his-- Then an eternal Sun revealed something beyond what must die, angelic choruses heard and understood inflamed our souls with a holy aspiration towards Christ. Alas, I have but one object, my light whose body left to me is beautiful whose God-like soul still illuminates mine. From one pole to the other of this earth his splendid deeds achieved what the proud wished and he knows true content in paradise. |
An image of the Italian text from Visconti's 1840 edition |
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Notes: From V XIII:13. See also B A1:12:9; R XIX:63. Key |
