As if He were giving us a jewel struck
off from Paradise, eternal, inward,
God gave us free will and a sincere heart
so we could choose to give ourselves back to
Him. And there's the faultline. Humble yet safe,
thinking well of ourselves, we depend on
this will (God-given), to find we've locked in
betrayal, the treachery of self-love.
A man who can see gives a man who can't
a noble gift when his hand helps the poor
man go where he wants to. The really blind--
we--let ruthless passion wheel us into
a maze born of real mistake--of holding
back from God who sees all, is peace and rest.
|An image of the Italian text from Visconti's 1840 edition|
From V II:388. See also B S2:11:182; R XXVII:450; MSs A, CASI, Pr, R, RA; 1539, 1540/2, 1543/58 (Ruscelli); 1552/9-60;1548 Valgrisi; 1693 Bulifon; 1760 Rota. Key