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|
From V XIII:13. See also B A1:12:9; R XIX:63. Key