Had it rained gold and silver, we'd've seen
those unsure about another life run,
their eager hands, greedy stomachs ready
to gather in the sordid briefly-held
treasure. Their blind getting and vain careers
are very precious to the experts as
today the brightest palms, greenest laurels
go to wealth and not to true excellence.
God has opened the gates of paradise
to them, poured down from His wounded side a
limitless gift--but no-one runs to Him.
And if someone opens the gate to Him,
shows the way, he's a cheat, self-deluded,
he thinks too much of what's in his own mind.
|An image of the Italian text from Visconti's 1840 edition|
From V XXVI:186. See also B S1:33:101; MS V2 (Caruso f47); Valgrisi 33. Translation: Stortoni & Lillie 69. On Bernardino Ochino; see MMazzetti, "La Poesia Come Vocazione Morale: VC," Rassegna Della Letterature Italiano, 77, Serie VI (1973), p. 31. Key