Part 7

Father was right. Here I stand in the end being cheated and scolded.

You don't believe your own words. They're your excuse to escape.

Go, then. Unworthy of women are men. We, who carry your children

Next to our hearts, in these hearts loyalty we bear you, too.

As for you men, when you've poured out your potency in our embraces

And your desires dissipate, love with them passes away."

These things expressed, and taking her child from its chair, my beloved

Presses it close to her heart, kisses it, tears in her eyes.

I'm now so very ashamed of myself for having permitted

Gossip of neighbors to spoil picture so eloquent.

For a short moment a fire may burn darkly while smoke swirls about it.

Water dashed on the coals suddenly smothers their glow.

Rapidly then renewed heat overcomes those lowering vapors,

Sends up a flame that anew bright and more powerful gleams.

How very happy I am here in Rome when I think of the bad days

Far back there in the north, wrapped in a grayish light.

Over my head there the heavens weighed down so dismal and gloomy;

Colorless, formless, that world round this exhausted man lay.

Seeking myself in myself, an unsatisfied spirit, I brooded,

Spying out pathways dark, lost in dreary reflection.

Here in an aether more clear now a luster encircles my forehead.

Phoebus the god evokes forms, clear are his colors by day.

Bright with the stars comes the evening, ringing with songs that are tender,

And the glow of the moon, brighter than northern sun.

What blessedness mortals may know! Am I now dreaming? Or welcomes

Jupiter, Father, as guest--me, to ambrosial halls?

See, I lie here extending my arms toward your knees. I am praying:

Hospitality's god, Jupiter Xenius! Hear: