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18.02.2012 | 20:00 | KraaKhUis

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Eustache de Monte RegaliChiare, fresche et dolci acque,ove le belle membrapose colei che sola a me par donna;gentil ramo ove piacque(con sospir’ mi rimembra)a lei di fare al bel fiancho colonna;herba et fior’ che la gonnaleggiadra ricoverseco l’angelico seno;aere sacro, sereno,ove Amor co’ begli occhi il cor m’aperse:

date udïenza insiemea le dolenti mie parole extreme.

S’egli è pur mio destinoe ‘l cielo in ciò s’adopra,ch’Amor quest’occhi lagrimando chiuda,qualche gratia il meschinocorpo fra voi ricopra,et torni l’alma al proprio albergo ignuda.La morte fia men crudase questa spene portoa quel dubbioso passo:ché lo spirito lassonon poria mai in piú riposato portoné in piú tranquilla fossafuggir la carne travagliata et l’ossa.

Jacopo da BolognaNon al suo amante piú Dïana piacque,quando per tal ventura tutta ignudala vide in mezzo de le gelide acque,

ch’a me la pastorella alpestra et crudaposta a bagnar un leggiadretto velo,ch’a l’aura il vago et biondo capel chiuda,

tal che mi fece, or quand’egli arde ‘l cielo,

Clear, sweet fresh waterwhere she, the only one who seemedwoman to me, rested her beautiful limbs:gentle branch where it pleased her(with sighs, I remember it)to make a pillar for her lovely flank:grass and flowers which her dresslightly covered,as it did the angelic breast:serene, and sacred air,where Love pierced my heart with eyes of beauty:listen togetherto my last sad words.

If it is my destinyand heaven works towards this,that Love should close these weeping eyes,let some grace burymy poor body amongst you,and the soul return naked to its place.Death would be less cruelif I could bear this hopeto the uncertain crossing:since the weary spiritcould never in a more gentle harbour,or in a quieter grave,leave behind its troubled flesh and bone.

Diana was not more pleasing to her lover,when by chance he saw her all nakedin the midst of icy waters,

than, to me, the fresh mountain shepherdess,set there to wash a graceful veil,that ties her vagrant blonde hair from the breeze,

so that she makes me, now that the heavens burn,

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tutto tremar d’un amoroso gielo.

Jacques ArcadeltSolo et pensoso i piú deserti campi

vo mesurando a passi tardi et lenti,et gli occhi porto per fuggire intentiove vestigio human l’arena stampi.

Altro schermo non trovo che mi scampidal manifesto accorger de le genti,perché negli atti d’alegrezza spentidi fuor si legge com’io dentro avampi:

sí ch’io mi credo omai che monti et piagge

et fiumi et selve sappian di che tempresia la mia vita, ch’è celata altrui.

Ma pur sí aspre vie né sí selvaggecercar non so ch’Amor non venga sempreragionando con meco, et io co llui.---------------------L’aere gravato, et l’importuna nebbiacompressa intorno da rabbiosi vèntitosto conven che si converta in pioggia;et già son quasi di cristallo i fiumi,e’n vece de l’erbetta per le vallinon se ved’altro che pruine et ghiaccio.----------------------------Tutto ‘l dí piango ; et poi la notte, quandoprendon riposo I miseri mortali,trovomi in pianto, et raddoppiansi I mali:cosí spendo ‘l mio tempo lagrimando.

In tristo humor vo li occhi comsumando,e ‘l cor in doglia ; et son fra li animalil’ultimo, sí che li amorosi stralimi tengon ad ogni or di pace in bando.

Lasso, che pur da l’un a l’altro sole,

tremble, wholly, with the chill of love.

Alone and thoughtful, through the most desolate fields,I go measuring out slow, hesitant paces,and keep my eyes intent on fleeingany place where human footsteps mark the sand.

I find no other defence to protect mefrom other people’s open notice,since in my aspect, whose joy is quenched,they see from outside how I flame within.

So now I believe that mountains and river-banksand rivers and forests know the qualityof my life, hidden from others.

Yet I find there is no path so wild or harshthat love will not always come therespeaking with me, and I with him. -----------------------------The heavy air, and the oppressive cloud,compressed on all sides by the raging winds,will quickly be converted into rain:and already part-crystal are the rivers,and where there was grass in the valleysthere’s nothing to be seen but frost and ice.-----------------------------All day I weep: and then in the night when wretched mortals take their rest,I find myself weeping, redoubling my ills:so I spend the time that’s mine in tears.

My eyes are drowned in sad moisture,the heart with pain: and I am the worstof creatures, the arrows of love pierce meso all over, now that peace is exiled.

Alas, with one sun following on another,

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et da l’una ombra a l’altra, ò già ‘l piú corsodi questa morte, che si chiama vita.

Piú l’altrui fallo che ‘l mi’ mal mi dole:

ché Pietà viva, e ‘l moi fido soccorso,vèdem’ arder nel foco, et non m’aita.

Guillaume DufayVergene bella, che di sol vestita,coronata di stelle, al sommo Solepiacesti sí, che ‘n te Sua luce ascose,amor mi spinge a dir di te parole:ma non so ‘ncominciar senza tu’ aita,et di Colui ch’amando in te si pose.Invoco lei che ben sempre rispose,chi la chiamò con fede:Vergine, s’a mercedemiseria extrema de l’humane cosegià mai ti volse, al mio prego t’inchina,

soccorri a la mia guerra,bench’i’ sia terra, et tu del ciel regina.

Cipriano de RoreMia benigna fortuna e ‘l viver lieto,i chiari giorni et le tranquille nottie i soavi sospiri e ‘l dolce stileche solea resonare in versi e ‘n rime,vòlti subitamente in doglia e ‘n pianto,odiar vita mi fanno, et bramar morte.

Crudel, acerba, inexorabil Morte,cagion mi dài di mai non esser lieto,ma di menar tutta mia vita in pianto,e i giorni oscuri et le dogliose notti.I mei gravi sospir’ non vanno in rime,e ‘l mio duro martir vince ogni stile.

one shadow after another, I’ve already passedthe greater part of this death, that they call life.

Another’s failing grieves me more than my own:that living Pity, and solace of my faith,sees the fire burning, and will not help me.

Lovely Virgin, who, clothed in glory,crowned with stars, so pleased the high Sun, that he hid his light in you,love urges me to speak of you:but I cannot begin without your help,and His, who lovingly was set in you.I call on her who always replies trulyto those who call to her with faith:Virgin, if the final misery of human life can forever turn to you for mercy, bow down to hear my prayer,and help me in this, my war,though I am earth, and you the queen of heaven.

My kindly fate, and a life made happy,the clear days, and the tranquil nights,the gentle sighs, and the sweet stylethat alone sounded in my verse and rhyme,suddenly changed to grief and weeping,making me hate my life, and long for death.

Cruel, bitter, and inexorable Death,you give me reason never to be happy,but to live my life instead with weeping,darkened days, and the saddened nights.My heavy sighs will not go into rhyme,and my harsh pain defeats every style.

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Giaches de WertO cameretta che già fosti un portoa le gravi tempeste mie diürne,fonte se’ or di lagrime nocturne,che ‘l dí celate per vergogna porto.

O letticciuol che requie eri et confortoin tanti affanni, di che dogliose urneti bagna Amor, con quelle mani eburne,solo ver ‘me crudeli a sí gran torto!

Né pur il mio secreto e ‘l mio riposofuggo, ma piú me stesso e ‘l mio pensero,

che, seguendol, talor levommi a volo;

e ‘l vulgo a me nemico et odïoso(ch ‘l pensò mai?) per mio refugio chero:tal paura ò di ritrovarmi solo.

Fabio Vacchi

I MAGGIO DELLE RAGAZZE

Ecco il ridente maggio Ecco quel nobil mese Che viene a dare imprese Ai nostri cuori.

L’è carico di fioriDi rose e di viole, risplende come il sole ogni riviera.

Eccoci tutti quanti col bel maggio fiorito che a noi fa dolce invito a far ritorno.

O little room that was once a refugefrom those grave diurnal storms of mine,you are a fountain now of nocturnal tearswhich I carry hidden by day from shame.

O little couch that was rest and comfortin so many torments, from what sad urnsdoes Love bathe you, with those ivory handsso wrongly cruel to me alone!

I do not flee from privacy and restas much as from my self and from my thoughts,which lifted me in flight when I followed them:

and I yearn for the hostile and odious crowd(who would ever have thought it?) as a refuge:I have such fear of finding myself alone again.

MAGGIO OF THE YOUNG GIRLS

Behold laughing May Behold that noble month, which comes,bringing daring to our hearts.

And laden with flowers, with roses and with violets, every riverbank shines forth like the sun

Here we are all together With the lovely flowering May,which for us is a sweet call,to return to once more.

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II ALLA CAMPAGNOLA

Brunetta brunettella amore arma gentile Ma comu te mere stu e stu tuo ricamari E stu ricamariMa quandu te ment’a sta a sta scal’a cusiri A sta scal’a cusiri

III SURFARARA

Mi scuordu, mi scuordà, scurdatu sugnu, mi scuordu di la stessa vita mia. Mi scurdavu lu bbeni (e) di ma mamma,era cchiù dduci, cchiù mègliu di tia. Mi scurdavu lu bbeni (e) di ma patri, passa lu mari tri bboti pi mmia. Mi scurdavu l’amici poi a me frati, di li santi mi scuordu e no di tia.

IV IL GLICINE

Come grappoli di glicine biancoDanziamo al ventoPer lo spazio di un giorno.

V U PISARI

Assira catiuscia lu tu zietu, la facci mi parivi de malatu (a), (a) Si ti pigli a cchistu pi marietu, a stari cu ddu miètici a lu latu (a). E a s’anidduzzu ca ti ara ssu itu, un ghiornu ti Fa bbidiri mpignatu (a)

VI LA CARTOMANTE

Marinaio fenicio annegatoBelladonna ed impiccatoVedo un fiume che trasuda olio e catrameUna donna violentata d’adulterio accusataVerrà a morte condannata.E poi uomini, vedo uomini

COUNTRY STYLE

Brunette, little brunetteLove, gentle soul,How becoming to youIs your embroideringWhen you sit on these steps, sewing.

IN THE SULPHUR MINERS’ STYLE

I forget, I have forgotten, I am forgotten, I have forgotten my own life I have forgotten the goodness of my mother, she was sweeter, even better than you. I have forgotten the goodness of my father, Who crossed the ocean three times for me. I have forgotten my friends and my brothers I forget the saints, but not you.

WISTERIA

Like clusters of white wisteria, we dance to thè wind for the space of a day.

THRESHING SONG

Yesterday I met your fiancéHe had the face of an invalidIf you take this guy for a husband,You’ll need to have two doctors standing by.And that little ring that adorns your fingerWill one day have to be pawned.

THE FORTUNETELLER

The drowned Phoenician Sailor -Belladonna - the Hanged Man -I see a river oozing oil and tar.A raped woman accused of adulterywill be sentenced to death.And then men, I see men -

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Dai nervi scossi e gli ideali fallitiChe non credono in quello che fannoE cercano acqua in pozzi esauriti

Il Cor Tristo (Roger Marsh)

I - Il Cor TristoS’ïo avessi le rime aspre e chiocce,come si converrebbe al tristo bucosovra ’l qual pontan tutte l’altre rocce,io premerei di mio concetto il sucopiù pienamente; ma perch’io non l’abbo,non sanza tema a dicer mi conduco.……………………………………………..Oh sovra tutte mal creata plebeche stai nel loco onde parlare è duro,mei foste state qui pecore o zebe!Come noi fummo giù nel pozzo scurosotto i piè del gigante assai più bassi,e io mirava ancora a l’alto muro,dicere udi’mi: “Guarda come passi:va sì che tu non calchi con le piantele teste de’ fratei miseri lassi”.Per ch’io mi volsi, e vidimi davantee sotto i piedi un lago che per geloavea di vetro e non d’acqua sembiante.………………………………………………E come a gracidar si sta la ranacol muso fuor de l’acqua, quando sognadi spigolar sovente la villana;livide, insin là dove appar vergognaeran l’ombre dolenti ne la ghiaccia,mettendo i denti in nota di cicogna.

Ognuna in giù tenea volta la faccia;

da bocca il freddo, e da li occhi il cor tristotra lor testimonianza si procaccia.

Quand’io m’ebbi dintorno alquanto visto,volsimi a’ piedi, e vidi due sì stretti,che ’l pel del capo avieno insieme misto.

their nerves shaken, their ideals gone -who have no belief in what they doand look for water in exhausted wells.

If I had harsh and raucous rhymes,such as would befit the dismal holeon which thrust down all the other rocks,I would press out the juice of my conceptionmore fully; but since I have them not,it’s not without fear I bring myself to speak.……………………………………………..O misbegotten crowd above all others,that are in the place whereof to speak is hard,better had you been here sheep or goats!When we were down in the dark abyssbeneath the feet of the giant, but far lower,and I was gazing still at the high wall,I heard said to me, “Beware how you pass;take care you do not trample with your feetthe heads of the wretched weary brethren.”At which I turned, and saw before me,and under my feet, a lake which through frostappeared like glass, not water.…………………………………….And as the croaking frog sitswith its nose out of the water, at eveningwhen the peasant girl dreams of gleaning;so, livid in their faces where shame appears,were the suffering shades within the ice,chattering their teeth like the notes of the stork.Each kept his face turned downward; from themouth the cold, and from the eyes the miseryof the heart bearing witness among them.

When I had looked round awhile,I turned to my feet, and saw two so closethat the hair of their heads was twined toge-

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“Ditemi, voi che sì strignete i petti”,

diss’io, “chi siete?”. E quei piegaro i colli;

e poi ch’ebber li visi a me eretti,li occhi lor, ch’eran pria pur dentro molli,

gocciar su per le labbra, e ’l gelo strinse

le lagrime tra essi e riserrolli.

Bernardo PisanoOr vedi, Amor, che giovenetta donnatuo regno sprezza, et del mio mal non cura,

et tra duo ta’ nemici è sí secura.

Tu se’ armato, et ella in treccie e ‘n gonna

si siede, et scalza, in mezzo i fiori et l’erba,ver’ me spietata, e ‘n contra te superba.

I’ son pregion; ma se pietà anchor serbal’arco tuo saldo, et qualchuna saetta,fa di te et di me, signor, vendetta.-------------------------------Nova angeletta sovra l’ale accortascese dal cielo in su la fresca riva,là ‘nd’io passava sol per mio destino.

Poi che senza compagna et senza scortami vide, un laccio che di seta ordiva

tese fra l’erba, ond’è verde il camino.

Allor fui preso; et non mi spiacque poi,

sí dolce lume uscia degli occhi suoi.--------------------------------Chiare, fresche et dolci acque,

ther.“Tell me, you who press together your breasts,”said I, “who are you?” And they bent their necks,and when they had raised their faces to me,their eyes, which before were moist only within, gushed up through the lids, and the frost boundthe tears between and locked them up again.

Now you see, Love, that this young ladyscorns your rule, and cares nothing for my hurt,and feels safe between two of her enemies.

You are armed, and she in loose hair and gownsits barefoot amongst the flowers and grass,pitiless towards me, and proud towards you.

I’m imprisoned: but if there’s mercy still,raise your bow, and with a few arrowstake vengeance, my lord, for me and you.-------------------------------A new young angel carried by her wingsdescended from the sky to the green bank,there where I passed, alone, to my destiny,

When she saw I was without companion,or guard, she stretched a noose, woven of silk,in the grass, with which the way was turfed.

Then I was captured: and later it did not dis-please me,so sweet a light issued from her eyes.----------------------------------Clear, sweet fresh water

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ove le belle membrapose colei che sola a me par donna;gentil ramo ove piacque(con sospir’ mi rimembra)a lei di fare al bel fiancho colonna;herba et fior’ che la gonnaleggiadra ricoverseco l’angelico seno;aere sacro, sereno,ove Amor co’ begli occhi il cor m’aperse:

date udïenza insiemea le dolenti mie parole extreme.

Il Cor Tristo (Roger Marsh)

II - Ne l’eterno rezzoPoscia vid’io mille visi cagnazzifatti per freddo; onde mi vien riprezzo,e verrà sempre, de’ gelati guazzi.E mentre ch’andavamo inver’ lo mezzoal quale ogne gravezza si rauna,e io tremava ne l’eterno rezzo;se voler fu o destino o fortuna,non so; ma, passeggiando tra le teste,forte percossi ’l piè nel viso ad una.Piangendo mi sgridò: “Perché mi peste?

se tu non vieni a crescer la vendettadi Montaperti, perché mi moleste?”.

E io: “Maestro mio, or qui m’aspetta,

sì ch’io esca d’un dubbio per costui;poi mi farai, quantunque vorrai, fretta”.Lo duca stette, e io dissi a coluiche bestemmiava duramente ancora:“Qual se’ tu che così rampogni altrui?”.“Or tu chi se’ che vai per l’Antenora,

percotendo”, (rispuose), “altrui le gote,

where she, the only one who seemedwoman to me, rested her beautiful limbs:gentle branch where it pleased her(with sighs, I remember it)to make a pillar for her lovely flank:grass and flowers which her dresslightly covered,as it did the angelic breast:serene, and sacred air,where Love pierced my heart with eyes of beauty:listen togetherto my last sad words.

II - In the eternal shadeThen I saw a thousand faces made dog-likeby the cold; whence shuddering comes to me,and will always come, at frozen pools.And while we were going toward the centreto which tends every weight,and I was trembling in the eternal shade; whether it was will or destiny or fortuneI know not, but, walking among the heads,I struck my foot hard in the face of one.Wailing he cried out: “Why do you trample me?If you do not come to increase the vengeanceof Montaperti, why do you molest me?”

And I: “My Master, now wait here for me, so thatthrough him I may free myself from a doubt;then make me hasten as much as you wish.”The Leader stopped, and I said to that shadewho was bitterly blaspheming still,“Who are you, who shouts so at another?”“No! Who are you, that goes through Ante-nora,smiting the cheeks of others, so that even

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sì che, se fossi vivo, troppo fora?”.“Vivo son io, e caro esser ti puote”,( fu mia risposta,) “se dimandi fama,ch’io metta il nome tuo tra l’altre note”.

Ed elli a me: “Del contrario ho io brama.Lèvati quinci e non mi dar più lagna,ché mal sai lusingar per questa lama!”.Allor lo presi per la cuticagna,e dissi: “El converrà che tu ti nomi,o che capel qui sù non ti rimagna”.Ond’elli a me: “Perché tu mi dischiomi,

né ti dirò ch’io sia, né mosterroltise mille fiate in sul capo mi tomi”.

Io avea già i capelli in mano avvolti,e tratto glien’avea più d’una ciocca,latrando lui con li occhi in giù raccolti,quando un altro gridò: “Che hai tu, Bocca?non ti basta sonar con le mascelle,

se tu non latri? qual diavol ti tocca?”.“Omai”, diss’io, “non vo’ che più favelle,malvagio traditor; ch’a la tua ontaio porterò di te vere novelle”.

“Va via”, (rispuose), “e ciò che tu vuoi conta;

ma non tacer, se tu di qua entro eschi,di quel ch’ebbe or così la lingua pronta.El piange qui l’argento de’ Franceschi:“Io vidi”, potrai dir, “quel da Dueralà dove i peccatori stanno freschi”.

Bernardo PisanoSí è debile il filo a cui s’attenela gravosa mia vitache, s’altri non l’aita,ella fia tosto di suo corso a riva;

if you were alive, it would be too much?”“Alive I am, and it may be dear to thee,”( was my reply,) “if you demand fame, that I should note your name among the rest.”And he to me: “For the opposite I long;take yourself hence, and don’t vex me further,for ill you know how to flatter in this depth.”Then I took him by the scalp,and said, “You must name yourself,or not a hair will remain upon you here.”At which he to me, “Though thou strip me bald,I will not tell you who I am, nor will I show it toyou if you fall upon my head a thousand times.”

I already had his hair twisted in my hand,and had pulled out more than one shock,he barking, with his eyes held down,when another cried out, “What’s up,Bocca?Haven’t you made enough music with your jaws,but you must bark? What devil is at you?”“Now,” said I, “I don’t need you to speak,accursed traitor; for to your shamewill I carry true news of you.”

“Begone,” he answered, “and write what you like;but be not silent, if you get out of here,about him who just had his tongue so ready.He laments here the Frenchman’s money:“I saw”, you can say, “him of Duera,there where the sinners are put to cool.”.

The thread on which my heavy life hangsis worn so thin,that if no one supports itit will soon have arrived at its end:

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però che dopo l’empia dipartitache dal dolce mio benefeci, sol una speneè stato infin a qui cagion ch’io viva,dicendo: Perché privasia de l’amata vista,mantienti, anima trista;che sai s’a miglior tempo ancho ritorniet a piú lieti giorni,o se ‘l perduto ben mai si racquista?Questa speranza mi sostenne un tempo:or vien mancando, et troppo in lei m’attempo.--------------------------Ne la stagion che ‘l ciel rapido inchinaverso occidente, et che ‘l dí nostro volaa gente che di là forse l’aspetta,veggendosi in lontan paese sola,la stancha vecchiarella pellegrinaraddoppia i passi, et piú et piú s’affretta;

et poi cosí solettaal fin di sua giornatatalora è consolatad’alcun breve riposo, ov’ella obliala noia e ‘l mal de la passata via.Ma, lasso, ogni dolor che ‘l dí m’adducecresce qualor s’inviaper partirsi da noi l’eterna luce.

Canzon, se l’esser mecodal matino a la serat’à fatto di mia schiera,tu non vorrai mostrarti in ciascun loco;et d’altrui loda curerai sí poco,ch’assai ti fia pensar di poggio in poggio

come m’à concio ‘l focodi questa viva petra, ov’io m’appoggio.

Che debb’io far? che mi consigli, Amore?Tempo è ben di morire,et ò tardato piú ch’i’ non vorrei.

for after I had suffered the cruel partingfrom my sweet goodonly one hoperemained that gave reason for living,saying: ‘Since you are deprivedof the beloved sight,endure, sad spirit:Who knows if better times will not returnand more joyful days,and the good you have lost be regained?This hope sustained me for a time:but now it fails I spend too much time on it.-----------------------------At the moment when the swift sky turnstowards the west, and our day fliesto people beyond, perhaps, who see it there,the weary old woman on a pilgrimagefinding herself alone in a far country,redoubles her steps, and hurries more and more:and then so aloneat the end of her dayis sometimes consoledwith brief repose that lets her forgetthe troubles and the evils of the way.But, alas, every grief the day brings me,grows when the eternal lightbegins to depart from us.

Song, if being with mefrom dawn to eveninghas made you of my company,you’ll not wish to show yourself everywhere:and you’ll care so little for other’s praise,it’s enough for you to take thought, from hill to hill,of how I’m scorched by firefrom this living stone, on which I lean.

What must I do? What do you counsel, Love?The time has truly come to die,and I have lingered longer than I wish.

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Madonna è morta, et à seco il mio core;et volendol seguire,interromper conven quest’anni rei,perché mai veder leidi qua non spero, et l’aspettar m’è noia.Poscia ch’ogni mia gioiaper lo suo dipartire in pianto è volta,ogni dolcezza de mia vita è tolta.

Fuggi ‘l sereno e ‘l verde,non t’appressare ove sia riso o canto,canzon mia no, ma pianto:non fa per te di star fra gente allegra,vedova, sconsolata, in vesta negra.

Il Cor Tristo (Roger Marsh)

III - UgolinoNoi eravam partiti già da ello, ch’io vidi due ghiacciati in una buca, sì che l’un capo a l’altro era cappello;

e come ’l pan per fame si manduca, così ’l sovran li denti a l’altro pose là ’ve ’l cervel s’aggiugne con la nuca:

non altrimenti Tidëo si rose le tempie a Menalippo per disdegno, che quei faceva il teschio e l’altre cose.

“O tu che mostri per sì bestial segno odio sovra colui che tu ti mangi, dimmi ’l perché”, diss’io, “per tal convegno,che se tu a ragion di lui ti piangi, sappiendo chi voi siete e la sua pecca, nel mondo suso ancora io te ne cangi,se quella con ch’io parlo non si secca”.

My lady is dead, and my heart with her:and if I wish to follow,I must interrupt this cruel life,since I have no more hopeof seeing her here, and waiting galls me.Now all my joyhas turned to weeping at her going,all sweetness has been taken from my life.

Flee the fresh and blithe,don’t go near laughter or song,my song, but weep:don’t take your place among happy people,widow, disconsolate, in your black dress.

III - UgolinoWe had now parted from him, when I saw two frozen in one hole, so that the head of one was a hood for the other. And as bread is devoured in hunger, so the upper one set his teeth upon the other, at the place where the brain joins with the nape. Not otherwise did Tydeus gnaw for spite the temples of Menalippus, than this one did the skull and the other parts. “O you! that by so bestial a sign shows hatred against him you eat, tell me why,” said I, “with this agreement,that if you rightfully complain of him, I, knowing who you are, and his sin, may yet requite you for it in the world above, if that with which I speak is not dried up.”

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(Canto xxxiii)

La bocca sollevò dal fiero pasto

quel peccator, forbendola a’ capelli del capo ch’elli avea di retro guasto.Poi cominciò: “Tu vuo’ ch’io rinovelli disperato dolor che ’l cor mi preme già pur pensando, pria ch’io ne favelli.Ma se le mie parole esser dien seme

che frutti infamia al traditor ch’i’ rodo, parlar e lagrimar vedrai insieme.Io non so chi tu se’ né per che modo venuto se’ qua giù; ma fiorentino mi sembri veramente quand’io t’odo.Tu dei saper ch’i’ fui conte Ugolino, e questi è l’arcivescovo Ruggieri: or ti dirò perché i son tal vicino.Che per l’effetto de’ suo’ mai pensieri, fidandomi di lui, io fossi preso e poscia morto, dir non è mestieri;però quel che non puoi avere inteso, cioè come la morte mia fu cruda, udirai, e saprai s’e’ m’ha offeso.

Breve pertugio dentro da la Muda, la qual per me ha ’l titol de la fame, e che conviene ancor ch’altrui si chiuda,m’avea mostrato per lo suo forame più lune già, quand’io feci ’l mal sonno che del futuro mi squarciò ’l velame.Questi pareva a me maestro e donno, cacciando il lupo e ’ lupicini al monte

per che i Pisan veder Lucca non ponno.Con cagne magre, studïose e conte Gualandi con Sismondi e con Lanfranchi s’avea messi dinanzi da la fronte.In picciol corso mi parieno stanchi lo padre e ’ figli, e con l’agute scane

The sinner raised his mouth, from his savage feast wiping it with the hair of the head which he had wasted from behind. Then he began, “You wish me to renew a desperate grief that oppresses my heart already even before I speak of it.But, if my words are to be seed that may bear fruit of infamy for the traitor whom I gnaw, you will see me speak and weep at once. I know not who you are, nor how you come to be down here, but Florentine you seem to me when I hear you speak. You should know that I was Count Ugolino and he was Archbishop Ruggieri. Now I will tell you why I am such a neighbour. How through his evil devices I, trusting to him, was taken and then put to death, there is no need to tell.But that which you cannot have heard, namely, how cruel was my death, you shall hear, and shall know if he has wron-ged me.

“A narrow slit in the tower, which from me has the name of Famine, and in which others yet must be shut up, had already shown me through its opening many moons, when I had the bad dream that rent for me the veil of the future. This man appeared to me, master and lord, chasing the wolf and his whelps upon the mountain for which the Pisans cannot see Lucca. With lean, eager, and trained hounds, Gualandi with Sismondi and with Lanfranchi he had sent before him to the front. After a short run, the father and his sons seemed to me weary, and it seemed to me

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mi parea lor veder fender li fianchi.

Quando fui desto innanzi la dimane, pianger senti’ fra ’l sonno i miei figliuoli ch’eran con meco, e dimandar del pane.Ben se’ crudel, se tu già non ti duoli pensando ciò che ’l mio cor s’annunziava; e se non piangi, di che pianger suoli?

Già eran desti, e l’ora s’appressava che ’l cibo ne solëa essere addotto, e per suo sogno ciascun dubitava;e io senti’ chiavar l’uscio di sotto

a l’orribile torre; ond’io guardai nel viso a’ mie’ figliuoi sanza far motto.

Io non piangëa, sì dentro impetrai: piangevan elli; e Anselmuccio mio disse: “Tu guardi sì, padre! che hai?”.

Perciò non lacrimai né rispuos’io tutto quel giorno né la notte appresso, infin che l’altro sol nel mondo uscìo.Come un poco di raggio si fu messo nel doloroso carcere, e io scorsi per quattro visi il mio aspetto stesso,ambo le man per lo dolor mi morsi; ed ei, pensando ch’io ’l fessi per voglia di manicar, di sùbito levorsie disser: “Padre, assai ci fia men doglia se tu mangi di noi: tu ne vestisti queste misere carni, e tu le spoglia”.Queta’mi allor per non farli più tristi;

lo dì e l’altro stemmo tutti muti; ahi dura terra, perché non t’apristi?Poscia che fummo al quarto dì venuti, Gaddo mi si gittò disteso a’ piedi,

dicendo: “Padre mio, ché non m’aiuti?”.Quivi morì; e come tu mi vedi,

I saw their flanks torn by the sharp fangs.

When I awoke before morning, I heard my sons, who were with me, wailing in their sleep, and asking for bread. Truly you are cruel if you weep not already, thinking of what my heart foretold; and if you weep not, at what do you ever weep?Now they were awake, and the hour drew near when food was usually brought to us, and from his dream each of us was afraid. And I heard below the door of the horrible tower being nailed up; whereupon I looked on the faces of my sons without saying a word. I wept not, I was so turned to stone within. They wept; and my poor little Anselm said, ‘You look so strange, father, ‘what troubles you?’ Yet I did not weep; nor did I answer all that day, nor the night after, until the next sun came up on the world. As soon as a little ray entered the woeful prison, and I discerned in their four faces my own look, I bit both my hands in woe; and they, thinking I did it through desire of eating, suddenly rose, and said, ‘Father, it will be far less pain for us if you eat of us; you clothed us with thiswretched flesh: you strip it off.’ I quietened me then, not to make them more sad: that day and the next we all stayed dumb; ah, hard earth! why did you not open? After we had come to the fourth day, Gaddo threw himself stretched out at my feet, saying, ‘My father, why don’t you help me?’ There he died: and, as you see me,

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vid’io cascar li tre ad uno ad uno tra ’l quinto dì e ’l sesto; ond’io mi diedi,già cieco, a brancolar sovra ciascuno, e due dì li chiamai, poi che fur morti.

Poscia, più che ’l dolor, poté ’l digiuno”.

Quand’ebbe detto ciò, con li occhi torti riprese ’l teschio misero co’ denti,

che furo a l’osso, come d’un can, forti.

Ahi Pisa, vituperio de le genti del bel paese là dove ’l sì suona, poi che i vicini a te punir son lenti,muovasi la Capraia e la Gorgona, e faccian siepe ad Arno in su la foce, sì ch’elli annieghi in te ogne persona!Ché se ’l conte Ugolino aveva voce d’aver tradita te de le castella, non dovei tu i figliuoi porre a tal croce.Innocenti facea l’età novella, novella Tebe, Uguiccione e ’l Brigata

e li altri due che ’l canto suso appella.

Noi passammo oltre…………

I saw the three fall one by one during the fifth day and the sixth; then I began, already blind, to grope over each one, for two days calling on them after they were dead: then fasting had more power than grief.”

When he had said this, with his eyes askance, he seized again the wretched skull with his teeth, that were strong as a dog’s upon the bone.

Ah Pisa! Shame of the people of the fair country where sounds the si since your neighbours are slow to punish you, let Capraia and Gorgona move and make a dam for the Arno at its mouth, so that it drowns every person in you!For even if Count Ugolino had a name for betraying you in your strongholds, you should not have set his sons on such a cross. Their young age made them innocent, you new Thebes!, little Uguccione and Bri-gataand the other two named in my song.

We passed onward ……………

ZO | 19.02.12 | 20:00deFilharmonie, michaël Pas (acteur)Pulcinella, kidconcert

dO & VR | 01 & 02.03.12 | 18:00-23:30en avant mars / Voorwaarts maartFestival

ZA | 03.03.12 | 20:00Concerto CopenhagenMendelssohn, Mozart

ZO | 04.03.12 | 16:00 | stAM | UitVeRkOCHttiburtina ensembleHildegard von Bingen

ZO | 04.03.12 | 17:00 | MiRYdocentenconcertHobo & slagwerk

WO | 07.03.12 | 20:00Jason moran trioJazz | Monk at town Hall, 1959

dO | 08.03.12 | 20:00 | UitVeRkOCHtGraindelavoixSoefigezangen uit Sicilië

VR | 09.03.12 | 20:00deFilharmonie, edo de Waart (dirigent)Bruckner: symfonie nr. 8 in c

ZO | 11.03.12UnesCO mUZieKdaG16:00 | b’rock (Gent)19:00 | accademia degli astrusi (bologna)21:00 | Orquesta barroca de sevilla (sevilla)22:15 | Grand Finale met de 3 ensemblesBarokmuziek uit sevilla, Bologna en Gent

dO | 15.03.12 | 20:00london baroque, reinoud van mechelen (tenor)Couperin, Haendel, Rameau, Marais, leclair

VR | 16.03.12 | 20:00amsterdam sinfonietta, Candida thompson, robert McDuffie (viool)Glass, keuris, Adams

ZA | 17.03.12 | 20:00Orchestre national de lillesibelius, schumann, tsjaikovski

ZO | 18.03.12 | 17:00docentenconcertOctaaf Van Geert

WO | 21.03.12 | 20:00Compagnie bischoffliszt, Glowicka

binnenKOrt

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