| |
So
feble is the threde that doth the
burden stay
Of my pore lyff. In hevy
plyght that fallyth in dekay
That but it have elles where some aide or some socours,
The runyng spyndell of
my fate anon shall end his cours ;
Ffor sins thunhappy howre that did me to depart
From my swete wele, one only hope hath staide my
lyff apart;
Wych doth perswade such wordes unto my sory mynd :
Mayntene thy sellff o wofull spryte some
better luk to
fynd :
For tho thou be depryffd from thy desyerd syght,
Who can the tell iff thi retorne be for
thy most delyght
?
Or who can tell thy losse, if thou ons maist recover
Some plesant howre
thy wo may wrape and the defend and cover ?
This is the trust that yet hath my lyff sustaynid ;
And now, alas, I se it faint, and I by trust am
trainid.
The
tyme doth flete, and I perceyve
thowrs how thei bend
So fast that I have skant
the space to marke my comyng end.
Westward, the sonne from out thest skant doth show his lyght,
When in the west he hyds
hym straite within the darke of nyght ;
And coms as fast where he began his path a wrye
From est to west, from west to thest so doth his
jornei ly.
The lyff so short, so fraile, that mortall men lyve here,
So gret a whaite, so hevy charge the body
that we bere
;
That when I thinke upon the distance and the space
That doth so far devid me from my dere
desird face,
I know not how tattayne the winges that I require,
To lyfft my whaite
that it myght fle to folow my desyre ;
Thus off that hope, that doth my lyff some thing sustayne
Alas I fere and partly fele full litill doth
remayne.
Eche
place doth bryng me grieff wher
I do not behold
Those lyvely Iyes wich
off my thoughtes were wont the kays to hold.
Those thowghtes were plesaunt swete whilst I enioyd that grace :
My plesure past, my present
payne wher I might well embrace ;
But for becawse my want shold more my wo encresse,
In wache, in slepe, both day and nyght, my will
doth never cesse
That thing to wishe wheroff, sins I did lese the syght
I never saw the thing that myght my
faythfull hert delyght.
Th unesy lyff I lede doth teche me for to mete
The flowdes, the sees, the land and
hilles, that doth
them entremete
Twene me and those shining lyghtes, (that wontyd to clere
My darke panges off
clowdy thowghtes) as bryght as Phebus spere ;
It techith me also what was my plesant state,
The more to fele by such record how that my welth
doth bate.
If
such record alas provoke thenflamid
mynd,
Wich sprang that day that
I did leve the best of me behynd ;
If love forgett hym selff by lenght of absence let,
Who doth me guyd, O wofull
wrech, unto this baytid net
Where doth encresse my care ? Much better were for me
As dome as stone, all thing forgott, still absent
for to be.
Alas the clere crystall, the bryght transparant glas,
Doth not bewray the colour hyd wich
underneth it has,
As doth thaccomberd sprite thowghtfull throws discover
Off fiers delyght of fervent love that in
our hertes we
cover ;
Owt by thes Iyes it shewth, that evermore delyght
In plaint and teres
to seke redresse, and that both day and nyght.
Thes
new kyndes of plesurs wherin most
men reioyse
To me thei do redowble
still off stormye syghes the voyce ;
Ffor I ame one of them whom plaint doth well content :
It sittes me well, myn
absent welth meseems me to lament,
And with my teris for to'assay to charge myn Iyes tweyne,
Lyke as myn hert above the brink is frawtid full of
pa[yne]
;
And for bycawse therto, off those fayre Iyes to trete,
Do me provoke, I shall retorne my plaint
thus to repete.
Ffor there is nothing elles that towches me so within
Where thei rule all, and I alone nowght
but the cace or
skyn.
Wherfore I do retorne to them, as well or spryng,
From whom descendes
my mortal wo above all othr thing.
So shall myn Iyes in payne accompanie myn hert,
That were the guydes that did it lede of love to
fele the smert.
The
cryspid gold that doth sormount
Apollos pryd
The lyvely stremes of plesaunt
sterres that under it doth glyd ;
Where in the bemes off love doth still encrese their hete
Wich yet so farre towch
me so nere in cold to make me swet(e) ;
The wise and plesaunt talk, so rare or elles alone,
That did me gyve the courtese gyfft that such had
never none,
Be ferre from me, alas ; and every other thing
I myght forbere with better will, than
that that did me
bryng
With plesant word and clere, redresse of lingerd payne,
And wontyd offt in kendlid will to vertu
me to trayne.
Thus ame I dryven to here and herken affter news
My comfort skant
my large desire in dowtfull trust renews.
And yet with more
delyght, to mone my wofull cace,
I must complaine those
handes, those armes, that fermely do embrace
Me from my sellff, and rule the sterne of my pore lyff.
The swete disdaynes, the
plesant wraths, and eke the lovely stryff
That wontid well to tune, in tempre just and mete
The rage that oft did make me erre by furour
undiscrete.
All this is hid me fro with sharp and craggyd hilles ;
At othrs wyll my long abode, my diepe
dispaire fulfilles.
But if my hope somtyme rise up by some redresse,
It stumbleth strait, for feble faint, my
fere hath such
excesse,
Such is the sort off hope, the lesse for more desyre,
Wherby I fere, and yet I trust, to se that I
requyre,
The restyng place of love where vertu lyves and grose,
Where I desire my wery lyff may sometyme take
repose.
My
song, thou shalt ataine to fynd that
plesant place,
Where she doth lyve, by
whome I lyve; may chaunce thou have this grace :
When she hath red, and seene the dred where in I sterve,
Bytwene her brestes she
shall the put, there shall she the reserve.
Then tell her that I come, she shall me shortly se,
If that for whayte the body fayle, this sowle shall
to her fle.
|
So
feeble is the thread that doth the burden
stay
Of my poor life, in heavy
plight that falleth in decay,
That but it have elsewhere some aid or some secourse,
The
running spindle of my fate
anon shall end his course.
For sins th' unhappy hour that did me to depart
5
From my sweet weal, one only hope hath stayed my
life
apart;
Which doth persuade such words unto my sorry mind:
Maintain thyself o woeful sprite some
better luck to find.
For though thou be deprived from thy desired sight,
Who can thee tell if thy return be for
thy most delight?
10
Or who can tell thy loss, if thou once may'st recover,
Some pleasant hour
thy woe may rape and thee defend and cover ?
This is the trust that yet hath my life sustained;
And now, alas, I see it faint, and I by trust am
trained. 14
The
time doth fleet, and I perceive th'
hours how they bend
So fast that I have skant
the space to mark my coming end.
Westward the sun from out th'east scant doth show his light,
When in the west he hides
him straight within the dark of night;
And comes as fast where he began his path awry
19
From east to west, from west to th' east so doth
his
journey
ly.
The life so short, so frail, that mortal men live here,
So great a weight, so heavy charge the body that we
bear,
That when I think upon the distance and the space
That doth so far divide me from my dear
desired face,
24
I know not how t'attain the wings that I require,
To lift my weight
that it might fly to follow my desire;
Thus of that hope, that doth my life something sustain
Alas, I fear and partly feel full little doth
remain.
28
Each
place doth bring me grief where I
do not behold
Those lively eyes which
of my thoughts were wont the keys to hold.
Those thoughts were pleasant sweet whilst I enjoyed that grace;
My pleasure past, my present
pain here I might well embrace;
But for because my want should more my woe increase,
33
In watch, in sleep, both day and night, my will
doth never
cease
That thing to wish whereof, since I did leese the sight
I never saw the thing that might my
faithful heart delight.
Th' uneasy life I lead doth teach me for to meet
The floods, the seas, the land and hills,
that doth them
intermeet
38
Tween me and those shining lights, (that wonted to clear
My dark pangs of
cloudy thoughts) as bright as Phoebus' sphere.
It teacheth me also what was my pleasant state,
The more to feel by such record how that my wealth
doth
bate.
42
If
such record alas provoke th' inflamed
mind,
Which sprang that day that
I did leave the best of me behind;
If love forget himself by length of absence let,
Who doth me guide, O woeful
wretch, unto this baited net
Where doth increase my care? Much better were for me
47
As dumb as stone, all thing forgot, still absent
for to be.
Alas the clear crystal, the bright transparent glass,
Doth not bewray the colour hid which
underneath it has,
As doth th' encumbered sprite thoughtful throes discover
Of fierce delight of fervent love that in
our hearts we
cover;
52
Out by these eyes it showeth, that evermore delight
In plaint and tears
to seek redress, and that both day and night. 54
These
new kinds of pleasures wherein most
men rejoice
To me they do redouble
still of stormy sighs the voice;
For I am one of them whom plaint doth well content:
It sits me well mine absent
wealth meseems me to lament,
And with my tears for to assay to charge mine eyes twain,
Like as mine heart above the brink is fraughted
full of
pain;
60
And for because thereto, of those fair eyes to treat,
Do me provoke, I shall return my plaint
thus to repeat.
For there is nothing else that touches me so within
Where they rule all and I alone nought
but the case or
skin.
64
Wherfore I do return to them, as well or spring,
From whom descends my mortal
woe above all other thing.
So shall mine eyes in pain accompany mine heart,
That were the guides that did it lead of love to
feel the
smart.
68
The
crisped gold that doth surmount Apollo's
pride,
The lively streams of pleasant
stars that under it doth glide, 70
Wherein the beams of love doth still increase their heat
Which yet so far touch
me so near in cold to make me sweat;
The wise and pleasant talk, so rare or else alone,
That did me give the courteous gift that such had
never
none,
74
Be far from me, alas; and every other thing
I might forbear with better will, than that that
did me bring
With pleasant word and clear, redress of lingered pain,
And wonted oft in kindled will to virtue
me to train.
78
Thus am I driven to hear and hearken after news,
My comfort scant my large
desire in doubtful trust renews.
And yet with more delight,
to moan my woeful case,
81
I must complain those hands,
those arms, that firmly do embrace
Me from myself, and rule the stern of my poor life.
The sweet disdains, the
pleasant wraths, and eke the lovely strife
That wonted well to tune, in temper just and meet
84
The rage that oft did make me err by furor
undiscreet.
All this is hid me fro with sharp and cragged hills;
At other's will my long abode, my deep
despair fulfils.
But if my hope sometime rise up by some redress,
It stumbleth straight, for, feeble faint,
my fear hath
such
excess,
90
Such is the sort of hope, the less for more desire,
Whereby I fear, and yet I trust to see that I
require,
The resting place of love where virtue lives and grows, 93
Where I desire my weary life may sometime take
repose.
My
song, thou shalt attain to find that
pleasant place, 95
Where she doth live, by
whom I live; may chance thou have this grace.
When she hath read, and seen the dread wherein I starve,
Between her breasts she
shall thee put, there shall she thee reserve.
Then tell her that I come, she shall me shortly see,
99
If that for weight the body fail, this soul shall
to her flee.
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PETRARCH'S Rime
37 tranlated by J.G. Nichols
Carcanet Press, Manchester
UK.
My heavy life is hanging on
a thread,
a thread that is so worn
if help does come soon
it will have run its course out to the end;
for, after I had suffered and had gone
from what I held most dear,
one hope alone remained,
one reason why I had to stay alive;
it said 'Since you mus live
out of your loved one's sight,
look to yourself, resist.
Who knows that better times will not return,
and much more happy days,
and you regain the good that you have lost?'
This hope sustained me once upon a time:
now I indulge it like an empty dream.
Time passes, and the hours
go by so fast
to see life's journey out
that I have no a moment
even to think about my race to death.
The sun has hardly risen in the East
before you see light break
on the opposing peak
arrived at by a long and curving track.
Life is so very short,
bodies of mortal men
so heavy and so weak,
that when I think how I am kept apart
from what I love, her face --
such weakness in the wings of my desire --
all customary comfort must fall short.
And how long can I live in such a state?
All places sadden where I
do not see
those beautiful bright eyes
which took with them the keys
of all my thoughts (pleasant while God allowed);
and, all to make my hard exile more hard,
I long for nothing else,
sleeping, walking, or sitting,
and nothing I see after them can please.
What mountains and what waters,
what oceans, and what rivers,
hide from me those bright eyes
which brought an open sky and midday sun
to birth from clouds of mine,
only to wear me down with memories,
only to show my former happiness
in contrast with my present cruel distress!
Alas, if speaking of it
only kindles
desire into a blaze
(desire was born that day
I left the better part of me behind),
and love with long oblivion fades away,
why do I take the bait
which but augments my trouble?
and why not rather be a silent stone?
Crystal or clearest glass
never allowed to pass
bright colours kept within
as clearly as my soul shows through my eyes
what thoughts I entertain,
what savage sweetness trembles in my heart,
through eyes that night and day desire to weep,
looking for her to put desire to sleep.
What things we mortals find
to give us pleasure!
All too often we love
whatever is most strange
and brings along the biggest crowd of sighs!
I too am one whom weeping seems to please,
tiring my brains to fill
my eyes with tears, as all
my heart is brimming with unhappiness;
and since to speak of her
bright eyes augments desire,
and nothing touches me
so closely where my feelings run so deep,
I turn back to my theme -
her eyes which lead my eyes to weep and weep;
so that my eyes are punished, having led
me all along the way which is Love's road.
That golden hair, enough to
make the sun
move enviously away,
and that bright glance, sublime
and yet so blazing with the rays of Love
it makes me fade away before my time,
that skilful way you speak,
rare in this world, unique,
which came to me so very courteously -
all these are taken away.
I could more readily
pardon a worse offence
than lose that greeting, like an angel's greeting,
which used to raise my powers
with all the blazing of my heart's desires;
and nothing I still hope to hear will rouse me
now to anything but heaving sighs.
And, so that I may weep
with more delight,
her hands which are so white,
those noble arms of hers,
her gestures which are haughty and yet sweet,
and her disdain which is so proud yet humble,
and her lovely young breat,
a tower of intellect,
are hidden from me by rough mountain places;
I do not know: shall I
see her before I die?
I know from time to time
my hopes arise; but they are never firm.
What hope have I to see
her ever again who has all honour in heaven,
see her where courtesy and virtue dwell,
and where I pray that I may live as well?
Canzone, if in Provence
you chance to find our lady,
I think you think that maybe
she will reach out to you her lovely hand,
from which I stray so far.
Do not touch it; but, falling at her feet,
say I shall come as swiftly as I can,
a naked spirit, or with flesh and bone.
|
NOTES
Tottel
entitles the poem 'Complaint of
the absence of his love'. It was probably written between June 1537 and
June 1539, when Wyatt was ambassador to Spain. Over most of the period
he
was anxious to return, but it is uncertain who (if any) the beloved
was.
The poem translates Petrarch's Rime 37 keeping
fairly close to the
original, so it could be merely an exercise in the language of love.
The
closing six line coda is however much more direct and intense than the
original.
The Petrarchan version is given opposite in a modern English
translation.
1.
stay = support.
3.
secourse = succour, help.
3.
the running spindle - according to classical
mythology the three Fates spun the thread of each human's life from a
spindle,
and continued spinning it until 'the blind Fury with the abhorred
shears'
cut the thread of that person's life.
6.
weal = welfare, well-being.
7.
such words = words of encouragemnent
such as he speaks to himself in the following lines.
11.
who can tell thy loss = your loss may
be slight.
12.
thy woe may rape = may seize and destroy
your sorrow.
15.
fleet = speed fastly.
19.
his path awry = (?) his (the sun's)
crooked path through the signs of the zodiac.
19-20.
This perhaps refers to the sun's
daytime path (East to West), and his nightime path behind the earth
(West
to East).
27
something = in part.
32.
Would that I could embrace the immediate
pain of your absence as readily as I seized in the past the pleasure of
being with you.
33.
But for because = except that.
34.
my will = my desire.
35.
That thing to wish whereof = to desire
that thing (your presence) of which. leese = lose.
38.
them intermeet = interpose themselves.
39
shining lights - i.e his mistress' eyes.
42.
record = recollection, remembrance.
bate = abate.
45.
let = impeded, prevented. The general
sense seems to be: If love, prevented by distant separation, cannot
forever
remember the beloved, what is it that guides me, poor wretch, always to
remember her and to swallow the painful bait of this memory.
49-50.
The thought is that glass and crystal
do not show the colour which lies underneath them as clearly as his
eyes
reveal what is in his soul.
51.
th' encumbered sprite = the burdened
soul.
discover
= uncover, reveal.
58.
sits = suits.
59.
to assay to charge = to attempt to
fill.
60.
fraughted = laden, weighed down.
61-2.
?? Perhaps 'And in order to speak
again (thereto) of those fairs eyes which provoke my pain I shall
return
again to my doleful lament'.
65.
return to them - sc. his mistress'
eyes.
69.
crisped gold = curled gold (of her
hair). surmount = surpass. Apollo's pride = the sun.
70.
This seems to be a reference to the
beloved's glances, her looks of love which stream down like the beams
of
a multitude of stars. (See the original Petrarchan poem opposite).
72.
Which yet, being so far removed, seem
near, and make me sweat, even though I freeze because of her absence.
73.
or else alone = perhaps unique.
77.
redress of lingered pain = cure of
long lasting pain.
78.
And often used to turn my fiery passion
to virtuous thoughts.
80.
The small comfort I receive from the
little news I hear leads me to put in doubt the validity of my love and
the confidence I may have in it.
81.
And yet with more delight to moan etc.
- suggestive of a masochistic element in his love for the lady.
82-3.
embrace / Me from myself = embrace
me and make me forget myself (so deep is the joy).
83.
rule the stern = steers me by the rudder.
86.
hid me from = hidden from me.
87.
At other's will my long abode = my
distant abode (from you) dictated by another's will (i.e. the King's,
who
had ordered him to remain as ambassador in Spain).
96.
may chance = it may chance that.
97.
thee dread wherein I starve = the dreadful
suffering of absence which causes my soul to starve.
98.
reserve = keep, preserve, hide.
|
IR THOMAS WYATT
