The dragon's lair

Cecco Angiolieri

Now Love makes war on me, my deadliest foe;
Like Satan by Saint Michael, I’m defeated;
Now I take canes for candles; thus I’m treated;
I can’t see straight. Don’t say it isn’t so.
A likely learnèd lad not long ago,
Men counted me a prudent paragon,
But now, as sure as heaven’s where Christ has gone,
I’ve gone stark mad, as far too well I know.
And yet all those who blame me as unwise
Should find a clearer glass where they would see
How force alone suppresses wisdom there.
But where the cure for this distemper lies
No man can tell; unless it’s Death maybe:
Say what you like, for I no longer care.

translated by: C.H. Scott and Anthony Mortimer

Cecco Angiolieri

L’Amor, che m’è guerrero ed enemico,
m’ha fatto com’al drago san Michele,
e mi fa canne somigliar candele:
guarda s’i’ son ben di veder mendico.
Garzon di tempo e di savere antico,
fui già chiamato fonte di cautele;
ma veramente come Cristo ’n ciel è,
i’ son del tutto folle, e nol disdico.
Però chi mi riprende di fallare,
nol mir’a dritto specchi’, al mi’ parere:
ché contra forza senno suol perire.
E non per tanto, ché del migliorare
non si sa punt’, anz’i’ potre’ morire –
dica chi vuol, ch’i’ ’l mett’a non calere.