per fare una leggiadra sua vendetta
I first fell in love with Hayao Miyazaki's work when my brother Eli took me in L.A. to see Princess Mononoke on the big screen. From the opening credits, with the words: "in ancient times, the land lay covered in forests, where from ages long past, dwelt the spirits of the gods …" I was bewitched. Miyazaki is brilliant; I love his tales of enviornmental concern, his use of strong female characters, his ability to blend Shinto belief into his plots without being heavy-handed.
What does this have to do with Petrarch? you ask. Good question. Last night I watched Miyazaki's latest film, Howl's Moving Castle. It too was lovely. This morning I began to translate Petrarch's per fare una leggiadra sua vendetta and both, the sonnet and the movie, gave me a rather interesting insight to behavior I have been taking for granted. The metaphor of love as a violent act certainly shines through the film, if not directly then in the act of putting the story in the middle of a World War I-like backdrop. However, this very metaphor, that love is a violent act, similar to an arrow lodged deep in the chest, is an ancient idea. That is what I found in my translation, Petrarch might not have been the first to come up with the idea, but the second sonnet in Canzoniere certainly gave me pause when I was done with it.1
Violent love, war-like love (regardless if you agree or disagree) has been a staple of Western thought for a very long time. Perhaps this is why I am comparing the two, the film and poem, since the source material for Howl's was the fantasy book by Diana Wynne Jones, which gave Miyazaki a very different working philosophy to play around with. Regardless, I recommend the film to anyone … and the poem?
Let us just say it is a curiosity.
II.
Per fare una leggiadra sua vendetta
et punire in un dí ben mille offese,
celatamente Amor l'arco riprese,
come huom ch'a nocer luogo et tempo aspetta.
Era la mia virtute al cor ristretta
per far ivi et ne gli occhi sue difese,
quando 'l colpo mortal là giú discese
ove solea spuntarsi ogni saetta.
Però, turbata nel primiero assalto,
non ebbe tanto né vigor né spazio
che potesse al bisogno prender l'arme,
overo al poggio faticoso et alto
ritrarmi accortamente da lo strazio
del quale oggi vorrebbe, et non pò, aitarme.
2.
To make a vendetta a graceful art
punish a thousand wrongs at once, Amour
secretly took up his long bow once more,
like men plotting the time and place to start.
My life power was contained in my chest,
my own simple defense, but in my eyes
was where the mortal blow lodged and now lies,
where no other arrow had yet to rest.
So, confused by the first of Love's arrow,
my defense had no fortune or vigor
to take up arms when it was needed. What
could it do? Withdraw me to a narrow,
steep hill, out of the slaughter?
It might have wished to save me but cannot.
- I used the source material from the following books:
Young, David. The poetry of Petrarch. New York: Farrar, Straus and Giroux (2004)
Bergin, Thomas G. (ed.) Selected Sonnets, Odes and Letters. Northbrook, Il.; AHM Publishing Corporation (1966) [back]