IN UN BOSCHETTO ... | DOWN IN A DELL ... |
Guido Cavalcanti | tr. Peter Dean |
In un boschetto trova’ pasturella Più che la stella - bell’ al mi’ parere. Cavelli avea bion delta e vicciutelli E gli occhi pien d’amor, cera rosata; Con sua verghetta pasturar’ agnelli, E, scalza, di rugiada era bagnata; Cantava come fosse ‘nnamorata: Er’ adornata - di tutto piacere. D’amor la salutai immantenente E domandai s’avesse compagnia; Ed ella mi rispose dolcemente Che sola sola per lo bosco gía, E disse: Sacci, quando l’augel pía, Allor disía - ‘l me’ cor drudo avere. Poi che mi disse di sua condizione E per lo bosco augelli audío cantare, Fra me stesso diss’io: Or’ è stagione Di questo pasturella gioi’ pigliare. Merzè le chiesi sol che di baciare E d’abbracciare - le fosse ‘n volere. Per man’ mi presse, d’amorosa voglía, E disse che donato m’avea ‘l core; Menemmi sott’ una freschetta foglía Là dov’ i’ vidi fior d’ogni colore, E tanto vi sentió gioia e dolzore Che dio d’amore - parvemi vedere. |
Down in a dell I met a shepherdess Lovelier no less - than a star she seemed to me. Blonde hair she had so fair and curly And full of love her eyes were, skin rose-pink; With crook she kept her lambs from hurly-burly And, barefoot, into dewy grass her feet did sink; She sang as if in love, or so she made me think: Dressed so, I do not blink - all would be pleased to see. Immediately fired with love, I said hello And asked her if she had a chaperone; And, gently smiling, she responded no, Through the wood she was travelling quite alone, Then went on, saying: Since I heard that bird’s tone, No more, I own - my own heart mine appears to be. No sooner had she told me of her plight And heard throughout the wood the same bird’s call, I softly to myself said: Now the time’s right - Some pleasure to this shepherdess I’ll bring. I asked permission of her but for kissing And for embracing - that’s if she’d agree. She took my hand with amorous intent And told me that she’d given me her heart; And underneath a canopy of cool leaves we went Where I saw flowers of colour every part, And there I felt such sweet bliss through me start, The god of love, I thought, was with us, me and she. |
Trans. Copyright © Peter Dean 2003