Should it ever happen that the sacred poem
to which heaven and earth have set their hand,
such that I am made lean after all these years,

conquers the cruelty that locked me out
of the sweet sheepfold where I slept as a lamb,
enemy of the wolves who brought it war,

with another voice and another fleece
I shall then return a poet…
            —Dante, Paradiso XV.1-8

The Telegraph reports that the city council of Florence has voted to revoke the sentence that sent the Italian poet into exile for the remainder of his life. The March 1302 condemnation promised death by fire were Dante ever to set foot in the city.

This is not the first time that Florentines have tried to achieve formal reconciliation with the man they would later honor as “the highest poet.” Wikipedia gives this account of an early effort:

In 1315, Florence was forced by Uguccione della Faggiuola (the military officer controlling the town) to grant an amnesty to people in exile, including Dante. But Florence required that as well as paying a sum of money, these exiles would do public penance. Dante refused, preferring to remain in exile. When Uguccione defeated Florence, Dante’s death sentence was commuted to house arrest, on condition that he go to Florence to swear that he would never enter the town again. Dante refused to go. His death sentence was confirmed and extended to his sons. Dante still hoped late in life that he might be invited back to Florence on honourable terms.

The Florentine resolution, which passed 19-5, restores Dante’s full citizenship in the city. The five naysayers not unjustly called the process “a stunt,” and Vittorio Sermonti, one of the most famous readers and commentators on Dante in Italy today, was likewise skeptical. “Well,” he told La Repubblica, “now they can start the rehabilitation process for Brutus and Cassius as well.”

Forese’s second poem to Dante refers to three buildings: Santa Maria a San Gallo, an old (in Dante’s time) Florentine hospital; the Altrafronte Castle, on which Dante may have supervised on some construction work; and the hospital of San Paolo a Pinti, which was founded and maintained by the Donati family. Tana and Francesco were Dante’s half-sister and -brother, i.e. offspring of his father’s second marriage. Belluzzo was a (presumably ignoble) relative of Dante’s.

The earlier poems are available here, here, and here.

++++++++

Forese to Dante

Go pay back San Gallo before you waste
your words on others’ poverty,
for this last winter brought you
too much pity from its patrons.
And besides, if we’re as poor as you say,
why do you keep bothering us for handouts?
You’ve carved so much out of the Altrafronte Castle
that I’m sure you’re eating just fine.

Really, some work would do you well—
and Tana and Francesco—if (God help you)
you wouldn’t be stuck with Belluzzo.
But I’ll bet you end up at the Pinti hospice—
yes, I can see you at the table there,
the third, after Alighiero and his shirt.

+ + +

Va’ rivesti San Gal prima che dichi
parole o motti d’altrui povertate,
ché troppo n’è venuta gran pietate
in questo verno a tutti suoi amichi.
E anco, se tu ci hai per sì mendichi,
perché pur mandi a noi per caritate?
Dal castello Altrafonte ha’ ta’ grembiate
ch’io saccio ben che tu te ne nutrichi.

Ma ben ti lecerà il lavorare,
se Dio ti salvi la Tana e ‘l Francesco,
che col Belluzzo tu non stia in brigata.
A lo spedale a Pinti ha’ riparare;
e già mi par vedere stare a desco,
ed in terzo, Alighier co la farsata.

The first punch of the second round: Dante strikes back at Forese, accusing him of gluttony and theft. (The first two poems are here and here.) A few notes: the revenge promised by the hide in the fourth line is, I think, a reference to a belt. San Simone is a church in Florence, but the allusion here is to the prison that stood nearby. And Stagno’s son (last line) was hanged for robbery.

++++++++

Dante to Forese

Solomon and partridge breasts
may very well tie your knot, young Bicci,
but the lamb loin will do you even worse,
for soon enough the hide will avenge the meat,
and you’ll be penned at San Simone
unless you’re able to slip away.
(Though even if you escape that stomach of yours
it’s too late now to make amends.)

But I’ve been told you know a trade
that, if true, could set you to rights,
for it’s worth a fair fortune.
So go to it as if you didn’t fear
the summons that would end the job—
and never mind how ill it served Stagno’s son.

+ + +

Ben ti faranno il nodo Salamone,
Bicci novello, e’ petti de le starne,
ma peggio fia la lonza del castrone,
ché ‘l cuoio farà vendetta de la carne;
tal che starai più presso a San Simone
se tu non ti procacci de l’andarne:
e ‘ntendi che ‘l fuggire el mal boccone
sarebbe oramai tardi a ricomprarne.

Ma ben m’è detto che tu sai un’arte
che, s’egli è vero, tu ti puoi rifare,
però ch’ell’è di molto gran guadagno;
e fa sì, a tempo, che tema di carte
non hai, che ti bisogni scioperare;
ma ben ne colse male a’ fi’ di Stagno.

Today, Forese’s response to Dante’s first poem. There are a few useful things to know here: Alighiero di Bellincione, Dante’s father, was a moneylender, and his appearance here is probably supposed to be spectral. Also, Solomon’s knot is an ancient design, represented above, and was a symbol of natural perfection for medievals.

++++++++

Forese to Dante

The other night I got a bad cough
because I had no clothes to wear.
And so, as soon as it was day, I set out
to earn some money however I could.
Now listen to the luck I managed:
thinking I’d discovered pearls in a boxwood
and florins coined from red gold,
instead I found Alighiero down among the graves,
bound by a knot whose name I don’t know—
it might have been Solomon’s, or the work of some other sage.
I crossed myself before the rising sun,
and then he cried, “For the love of Dante,
untie me!” But I couldn’t see how,
so I left him there and went on my way.

+ + +

L’altra notte mi venne una gran tosse,
perch’i’ non avea che tener a dosso;
ma incontanente che fu di’, fui mosso
per gir a guadagnar ove che fosse.
Udite la fortuna ove m’addosse:
ch’i’ credetti trovar perle in un bosso
e be’ fiorin coniati d’oro rosso;
ed i’ trovai Alaghier tra le fosse,
legato a nodo ch’i’ non saccio il nome,
se fu di Salamone o d’altro saggio.
Allora mi segna’ verso ‘l levante:
e que’ mi disse: “Per amor di Dante,
scio’mi”. Ed i’ non potti veder come:
tornai a dietro, e compie’ mi’ vïaggio.

In equal parts sickened by all the time I’ve spent hassling myself over matters political and inspired by the mischievous brilliance of Kent Johnson’s Epigramititis, I’ve decided to work out some fast-and-loose translations of Dante’s Tenzone with Forese Donati. I’ll post them individually as they emerge over the next few days and/or weeks.

In keeping with the spirit of the thing, I’ll try to keep the pedantry to a minimum, but will say that these poems date from sometime before 1296, the year Donati died. (Dante would have turned thirty-one that year, and Donati was probably close to his age.) Some scholars suggest that the Tenzone signals a real break in Dante’s and Donati’s friendship, but I’m less than convinced. In any case, Dante portrays Donati quite affectionately in Purgatorio 23 and 24. For the purpose of today’s installment, it helps to know that “Bicci” was Forese’s nickname, as, it seems, was his father’s. Also, the “dried figs” of the penultimate line are almost certainly a sexual pun, but I don’t think I’ve quite got the sense of it.

++++++++

Dante to Forese Donati

Whoever heard the cough
of Bicci’s misfated wife
might say she’d wintered up north
where the snow crystals form.
But even mid-August finds her with a cold—
you can guess how it goes in every other month!
And it does her little good to sleep in socks,
thanks to the short covering she’s got.

No, the cough, the cold, and all her other ills
aren’t the fault of any old phlegm;
the problem is what’s gone missing from her nest.
Her mother, who has more than one reason to cry,
laments, “Oh, and to think that for a few dried figs
I could have put her in the house of count Guido!”

+ + +

Chi udisse tossir la mal fatata
moglie di Bicci vocato Forese,
potrebbe dire ch’ell’ha forse vernata
ove si fa ‘l cristallo in quel paese.
Di mezzo agosto la truovi infreddata;
or sappi che de’ far d’ogni altro mese!
E non le val perché dorma calzata,
merzé del copertoio c’ha cortonese.

La tosse, ‘l freddo e l’altra mala voglia
non l’addovien per omor ch’abbia vecchi,
ma per difetto ch’ella sente al nido.
Piange la madre, c’ha più d’una doglia,
dicendo: “Lassa, che per fichi secchi
messa l’avre’ ‘n casa del conte Guido!”

1/ Dante, Inferno 26.112-120

Brothers…who through a hundred thousand
Dangers have reached the channel to the west,
To the short evening watch which your own senses

Still must keep, do not choose to deny
The experience of what lies past the sun
And of the world yet uninhabited.

Consider the seed of your generation:
You were not born to live like animals
But to pursue virtue and possess knowledge.

2/ Louis MacNeice, “Thalassa”

Run out the boat, my broken comrades;
Let the old seaweed crack, the surge
Burgeon oblivious of the last
Embarkation of feckless men,
Let every adverse force converge–
Here we must needs embark again.

Run up the sail, my heartsick comrades;
Let each horizon tilt and lurch–
You know the worst: your wills are fickle,
Your values blurred, your hearts impure
And your past life a ruined church–
But let your poison be your cure.

Put out to sea, ignoble comrades,
Whose record shall be noble yet;
Butting through scarps of moving marble
The narwhal dares us to be free;
By a high star our course is set,
Our end is Life. Put out to sea.