Trinity Journal of Literary Translation
Michelangelo 21 Whoever is born
borne along Time
is bound to die –
to the end at last.
The sun leaves nothing Pleasure and anguish, with all our words
here alive.
both are lost
and all our thoughts.
And all the worth
of our families’ stocks
is a shadow in the sunlight, As are the rest of you,
as happy, as miserable.
We are not, as you see, We are dust in the sun, Everything here Once our eyes
with shining lights
so were we:
We were men.
as we were then.
deprived of life.
is bound to die.
were filled to the brim
now they are hollow, brought by Time
smoke in the breeze.
in these socketed caves; black and grim –
to this, its wake.
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