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When the sky's living lights were like fire, and our noble minds were roused to brave acts, when our great, choice, and master spirits each daily gave proof of the most rare of gifts; when the Graces had not yet turned into the Dark Sisters or a God who begrudged me; when the planets were orderly, glad, kind, and instilled upright shining hearts with strength; never did the sun create brighter days; one heard angelic harmony in the air: Nature was everything she could become. Meadows strewn with lillies and violets, all was still, the seas and winds were quiet when my life's light came into the world. |
An image of the Italian text from Visconti's 1840 edition |
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Notes: From V XXVII:27. See also B A1:16:11; R III:9-10. Recalls Rota, 1532-3 & Sannazaro's latin Piscatory Eclogues; (see VC on S's death, "Poi che tornata sei, anima bella"). Key |
