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The highest noblest master whose wisdom and courage held two natures in one man is now my Apollo; I bathe my eyes and my heart in His silvery blue spring-- true strong faith sees there another lyre, other muses and other mountains: may a sacred breeze thrill me with noble strange conceits that give the heart a timeless grace. How should I seek a laurel? why want to fly with Icarus? to ride the wind? from this we fall to a second hellish death. I wish to live forever, to be crowned in another chorus--with a light leap I shall know how to flee the whole false world. |
An image of the Italian text from Visconti's 1840 edition |
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Notes: From V III:163 & B S1:2:86, and Visconti III, 163. See also R: IV:402-3. A third to Molza, this one in reply to his "Alma cortese ... (see V, p. 413); see also ABernardy (La Vita e l'Opera di Vittoria Colonna, 1927, p. 15). Key |
