{"id":1450,"date":"2013-06-21T11:27:05","date_gmt":"2013-06-21T08:27:05","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.magdalenabiela.com\/?p=1450"},"modified":"2013-06-21T11:37:42","modified_gmt":"2013-06-21T08:37:42","slug":"lorenzo-de-medici-1448-1492","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.magdalenabiela.com\/?p=1450","title":{"rendered":"LORENZO DE\u2019 MEDICI, 1448-1492"},"content":{"rendered":"

\"medici\"<\/a><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

LORENZO DE\u2019 MEDICI
Sonetto I
I saw my Lady by a purling brook
With laughing maidens, where green branches twined;
O never since that primal, passionate look
Have I beheld her face so soft and kind.
Hence for a space my yearning was content
And my sad soul some consolation knew;
Alas, my heart remained although I went,
And constantly my pain and sorrow grew.
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Early the sun sank down in western skies
And left the earth to woeful hours obscure,
Afar my sun hath also veiled her ray;
Upon the mind first bliss most heavily lies,
How short a while all mortal joys endure,
But not so soon doth memory pass away.<\/p>\n

Sonetto II
How every hope of ours is raised in vain,
How spoiled the plans we laid so fair and well,
How ignorance throughout the earth doth reign,
Death, who is mistress of us all, can tell.
In song and dance and jest some pass their days,
Some vow their talents unto gentle arts,
Some hold the world in scorn and all its ways.
Some hide the impulses that move their hearts.
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Vain thoughts and wishes, cares of every kind
Greatly upon this erring earth prevail
In various presence after nature\u2019s lore;
Fortune doth fashion with inconstant mind,
All things are transient here below and frail.
Death only standeth fast for evermore.<\/p>\n

Sonetto III<\/p>\n

O leave, Cithera, thy beloved isle,
O leave thy gentle kingdom, come away
And rest, O goddess, by this rill awhile
That sprinkleth every tender green grass spray.
Come to this shady place, to this soft breeze
Awaking murmurous music in each tree,
To songs of mating birds, sweet-tuned to please,
O let this country thine elected be!
\u00a0\u00a0 And, if thou seek these limpid streams one day,
O bring thy darling son along with thee,
Because as yet this earth ignores his fame;
Steal from Diana her chaste nymphs away,
Who go untrammelled now and danger-free,
Scorning the puissant virtue of Love\u2019s name.<\/p>\n

Trionfo<\/p>\n

Youth is sweet and well
But doth speed away!
Let who will be gay,
To-morrow, none can tell.
\u00a0\u00a0 Bacchus and his Fair,
Contented with their fate,
Chase both time and care,
Loving soon and late;
High and low estate
With the nymphs at play;
Let who will be gay,
To-morrow, none can tell.
\u00a0\u00a0 Laughing satyrs all
Set a hundred snares,
Lovelorn dryads fall
In them unawares:
105 Glad with wine, in pairs
They dance the hours away:
Let who will be gay,
To-morrow, none can tell.
\u00a0\u00a0 Not unwillingly
Were these nymphs deceived:
From Love do but flee
Graceless hearts aggrieved:
Deceivers and deceived
Together wend their way.
Let who will be gay,
To-morrow, none can tell.
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Fat Silenus nears
On an ass astride:
Full of wine and years,
Come and see him ride:
He lolls from side to side
But gleefully alway:
Let who will be gay,
To-morrow, none can tell.
\u00a0\u00a0 Midas following,
Turneth all to gold:
What can treasure bring
To a heart that\u2019s cold?
And what joy unfold
For who thirsteth, pray?
Let who will be gay,
To-morrow, none can tell.
\u00a0\u00a0 Ears be very bold,
Count not on to-morrow:
Let both young and old,
Lads and lassies, borrow
Joy and banish sorrow.
Doleful thoughts and grey:
107 Let who will be gay,
To-morrow, none can tell.
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Lads and lassies all,
Love and Bacchus Hail!
Dance and song befall!
Pain and sadness fail!
Tender hearts prevail,
Happen then what may!
Let who will be gay,
To-morrow, none can tell.
\u00a0\u00a0 Youth is sweet and well
But doth speed away.<\/p>\n

Canzone a ballo<\/p>\n

Let him who is no lover
Go hence and seek another
Floor on which to dance,
He merits not good chance!
\u00a0\u00a0 Be there one who knows not Love,
Let him hasten from this place,
For that heart is poor in grace
Which fond ardours doth not prove.
Be there one whose fires burn low,
Let him breathe on them, and so
They blaze again, he need not go!
\u00a0\u00a0 Love presideth o\u2019er this feast,
Those who serve him gather round.
Be there one by envy bound,
Take he leave, for thus at least
He will go and not be chased!
Only those whom Love hath graced
In so sweet a bower are placed.
\u00a0\u00a0 Be there one who is ashamed
Of loving, let her ponder fair
109 And she will soon become aware
To love is to be nobly famed;
For love all homage doth deserve;
Ingratitude doth shame reserve.
\u00a0\u00a0 Be there one perchance so vile
As to flee away for fright,
Let her understand aright,
No such coward fancies wile
In gentle hearts! Nature doth bring
Us beauty; foolish \u2019twere to fling.
Away the roses of the spring!<\/p>\n

LORENZO DE\u2019 MEDICI
Sonetto I<\/p>\n

Vidi madonna sopra un fresco rio
tra verdi frondi e liete donne starsi;
tal che dalla prima ora in qua che io arsi
mai vidi il viso suo pi\u00f9 bello e pio.
Questo content\u00f2 in parte il mio desio,
e all\u2019 alma di\u00e8 cagion di consolarsi;
ma poi, partendo, il cor vidi restarsi;
crebbon vie pi\u00f9 i pensier e \u2019l dolor mio.
\u00a0\u00a0 Ch\u00e8 gi\u00e0 il sole inchinava all\u2019 occidente,
e lasciava la terra ombrosa e oscura;
onde il mio sole l\u2019 ascose in altra parte.
Fe\u2019 il primo ben pi\u00f9 trista assai la mente:
ah quanto poco al mondo ogni ben dura!
ma il rimembrar si tosto non si parte.<\/p>\n

Sonetto II
Quanto sia vana ogni speranza nostra,
quanto fallace ciaschedun disegno,
quanto sia il mondo d\u2019 ignoranza pregno
la meastra del tutto, morte, il mostra.
Altri si vive in canti e \u2019n balli e \u2019n giostra;
altri a cosa gentil muove lo ingegno;
altri il mondo ha e le sue cose a sdegno;
altri quel che dentro ha, fuor non dimostra.
\u00a0\u00a0 Vane cure e pensier, diverse sorte
per la diversit\u00e0 che d\u00e0 natura,
si vede ciascun tempo al mondo errante:
ogni cosa \u00e8 fugace e poco dura;
tanto fortuna al mondo \u00e8 mal costante:
sola sta ferma, e sempre dura, morte.<\/p>\n

Sonetto III<\/p>\n

Lascia l\u2019 isola tua tanto diletta,
lascia il tuo regno delicato e bello,
Ciprigna dea, e vien sopra il ruscello
che bagna la minuta e verde erbetta.
Viene a quest\u2019 ombra ed alla dolce auretta
che fa mormoreggiar ogni arbuscello,
a\u2019 canti dolci d\u2019 amoroso augello;
questa da te per patria sia eletta.
\u00a0\u00a0 E se tu vien tra quest chiare linfe,
sia teco il tuo amato e caro figlio;
ch\u00e8 qui non si conosce il suo valore.
Togli a Diana le sue caste ninfe,
che sciolte or vanno e senz\u2019 alcun periglio,
poco pressando la virt\u00f9 d\u2019 Amore.<\/p>\n

Trionfo<\/p>\n

Quant’ \u00e9 bella giovinezza
che si fugge tuttavia!
chi vuol esser lieto, sia:
di doman non c\u2019 \u00e8 certezza.
\u00a0\u00a0 Quest\u2019 \u00e8 Bacco e Arianna,
belli, e l\u2019 un dell\u2019 altro ardenti;
perch\u00e8 \u2019l tempo fugge e \u2019nganna,
sempre insieme stan contenti.
Queste ninfe e altre genti
sono allegre tuttavia:
chi vuol esser lieto, sia:
di doman non c\u2019 \u00e8 certezza.
\u00a0\u00a0 Questi lieti satiretti
delle ninfe innamorati,
per caverne e per boschetti
han lor posto cento aguati:
104 or, da Bacco riscaldati,
ballan, saltan tuttavia;
chi vuol esser lieto, sia:
di doman non c\u2019 \u00e8 certezza.
\u00a0\u00a0 Queste ninfe hanno ancor caro
da loro essere ingannate:
non puon far a Amor riparo
se non genti rozze e \u2019ngrate:
ora insieme mescolate
fanno festa tuttavia:
chi vuol esser lieto, sia:
di doman non c\u2019 \u00e8 certezza.
\u00a0\u00a0 Questa soma, che vien dreto
sopra l\u2019 asino, \u00e8 Sileno:
cosi vecchio \u00e8 ebbro e lieto,
gi\u00e0 di carne e d\u2019 anni pieno:
se no pu\u00f2 star ritto, almeno
ride e gode tuttavia:
chi vuol esser lieto, sia:
di doman non c\u2019 \u00e8 certezza.
\u00a0\u00a0 Mida vien dopo costoro:
ci\u00f2 che tocca, oro diventa:
e che giova aver tesoro,
poich\u00e8 l\u2019 uom non si contenta?
che dolcezza vuoi che senta
chi ha sete tuttavia?
chi vuol esser lieto, sia:
di doman non c\u2019 \u00e8 certezza.
\u00a0\u00a0 Ciascun apra ben gli orecchi,
di doman nessun si paschi;
oggi siam, giovani e vecchi,
lieti ognun, femmine e maschi;
ogni tristo pensier caschi;
facciam festa tutavia:
106 chi vuol esser lieto, sia:
di doman non c\u2019 \u00e8 certezza.
\u00a0\u00a0 Donne e giovanetti amanti,
viva Bacco e viva Amore!
ciascun suoni, balli e canti!
arda di dolcezza il core!
non fatica, non dolore!
quel c\u2019 ha esser convien sia;
chi vuol esser lieto, sia:
di doman non c\u2019 \u00e8 certezza.
\u00a0\u00a0 Quant\u2019 \u00e8 bella giovinezza
che si fugge tuttavia.<\/p>\n

Canzone a ballo<\/p>\n

Chi non \u00e8 innamorato
esca di questo ballo,
che saria fallo a stare in s\u00ec bel lato.
\u00a0\u00a0 Se alcuno \u00e8 qui che non conosca amore,
parta di questo loco;
perch\u2019 esser non potria mai gentil core
chi non sente quel foco;
se alcun ne sente poco,
s\u00ec le sue fiamme accenda
che ognun lo intenda, e non sar\u00e0 scacciato.
\u00a0\u00a0 Amore in mezzo a questo ballo stia,
e chi gli \u00e8 servo intorno.
E se alcuno ha sospetto o gelosia,
non faccia qui soggiorno;
se non, farebbe storno.
Ognun ci s\u2019 innamori,
o esca fuor del loco tanto ornato.
\u00a0\u00a0 Se alcuna per vergogna si ritiene
di non s\u2019 innamorare,
vergognerassi, s\u2019 ella pensa bene
108 pi\u00f9 tosto a non lo fare;
non \u00e8 vergogna amara
chi di servire agogna;
saria vergogna a chi gli fusse ingrato.
\u00a0\u00a0 Se alcuna ce ne fussi tanto vile,
che lassi per paura;
pensi bene, che un core alto e gentile
queste cose non cura:
non ha dato natura
tanta bellezza a voi
acci\u00f2 che poi sia il tempo mal usato.<\/p>\n

by Lorenzo de Medici<\/blockquote><\/em><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

                 <\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[7],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-1450","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-classic-poetry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.magdalenabiela.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1450","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.magdalenabiela.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.magdalenabiela.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.magdalenabiela.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.magdalenabiela.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=1450"}],"version-history":[{"count":4,"href":"https:\/\/www.magdalenabiela.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1450\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":1456,"href":"https:\/\/www.magdalenabiela.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1450\/revisions\/1456"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.magdalenabiela.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=1450"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.magdalenabiela.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=1450"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.magdalenabiela.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=1450"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}