[Julie Steiner]

VERSE TRANSLATION — DRAFT THREE (plus new blue LL1-9 and L17) (plus additional tweaks in brown) (plus additional tweaks in green)

Niccolò Machiavelli, 1469-1527
On Opportunity (Capìtolo dell' Occasïone)

     “Who are you, endowed and adorned with more
heavenly grace than mortal woman’s due?
Why fidget? And your feet have wings. What for?”
     “I’m Opportunity, perceived by few.
The reason I keep moving? I'm on one
foot. And stand atop a wheel—that, too.
     My flying can’t compete with how I run.
My wings, though, boost my feet’s efficiency
to blinding speed: en route, I’m seen by none.
     I keep my hair in front, where it can be
spread out to cover me from chest to face,
so when I’ve come, none recognizes me.
     The back part of my head lacks any trace
of hair, so people scrabble uselessly
when I’ve passed by—or turned, if that’s the case.”
     “But tell me: coming after you, who’s she?”
“Regret. Take careful note! Get this down pat!
She’ s kept by those who can’t keep hold of me.
     And you yourself, while wasting time in chat
and occupied with idle thoughts’ demands,
don’t see, poor soul, and don’t yet fathom, that
     already I have slipped right through your hands!”



LL1-2 were:
     “Who are you, endowed—adorned—with more
unearthly grace than mortal woman’s due?
LL5-6 were:
The reason for my flutters? I'm on one
foot. While standing atop a wheel—that, too.
Earlier, LL5-7 were:
The reason I’m un-still? To stay on one
foot. Atop a wheel, as well—that, too.
[color=blue]     Flying can’t compete with how I run,[/blue]
L9 was:
so when I'm on my way, I’m seen by none.
Earlier, L9 was:
until along my way, I’m seen by none.
LL1-9 were:
     “Who are you? With grace enough to beat
a mortal woman’s, heaven’s gifted you.
Why fidget, then? And why have wingèd feet?”
     “I’m Opportunity, perceived by few.
The reason that I flit? To stay on one
foot, atop a wheel, the way I do.
     Flying can’t compete with how I run,
but wings enhance my feet’s efficiency
so on my way, I’m blinding everyone.
L15 was:
when I’ve passed by (or turned, if that’s the case).”
LL17-18 were:
“That’s Regret. Take note, get this down pat!
She seizes those who can’t take hold of me.


VERSE TRANSLATION — DRAFT TWO plus tweaks to LL15-17

Niccolò Machiavelli, 1469-1527
On Opportunity (Capìtolo dell' Occasïone)

     “Who are you, that — more than heaven brings
to mortal women — grace so beautifies?
You’re restless—why? And why do your feet have wings?
     “I’m Opportunity, as few surmise.
The reason that I fidget? Poised on one
foot, atop a wheel, I improvise.
     My flying can’t compete with how I run,
but wings enhance my feet’s efficiency
until their rush is blinding anyone.
     I keep my hair in front, where it can be
spread out to cover me from chest to face,
so when I come, none recognizes me.
     The back part of my head lacks any trace
of hair, so people grasp there uselessly
when I’ve passed by (or turned, if that’s the case).”
     “Tell me: coming after you, who’s she?”
“That’s Regret. Take note, get this down pat!
She seizes those who couldn’t capture me.
     And you yourself, while wasting time in chat,
kept occupied with idle thoughts’ demands,
don’t see it yet, poor soul, or fathom that
     already I have slipped right through your hands!”


LL15–17 were:
when I’ve passed by (or flown, if that’s the case).”
     “But tell me: coming after you, who’s she?”
“That’s Penitence. Take note, get this down pat!



VERSE TRANSLATION — DRAFT ONE

Niccolò Machiavelli, 1469-1527
Capìtolo On Opportunity

     “Who are you, whom a grace that heaven brings
to no mere mortal woman beautifies?
You’re restless—why? And why do your feet have wings?
     “I’m Opportunity, as few surmise.
The reason that my fluttering’s never done
is as this wheel beneath one foot implies.
     Flying couldn’t match the way I run;
my wings, though, boost my feet’s efficiency
until their flow’s unseen by anyone.
     I keep my hair in front, where it can be
spread out to cover me from chest to face,
so when I come, none recognizes me.
     Behind my head, there isn’t any trace
of hair, so people fumble futilely
when I’ve passed by, or flown—whichever case.”
     “But tell me: coming after you, who’s she?”
“That’s Penitence. Take note, get this down pat!
She catches those who can’t grasp grasping me.
     And you, while you’re still wasting time in chat,
kept busy with your idle thoughts’ demands,
don’t see it yet, poor soul, nor know it, that
     I’m gone now, having slipped right through your hands!”


ORIGINAL ITALIAN
ENGLISH PROSE CRIB

Capìtolo dell’ Occasïone
Capìtolo on Opportunity — A capìtolo is a poem that imitates or parodies Dante’s tercets.

“ Chi sei tu, che non par donna mortale,
di tanta grazia il ciel t’ adorna e dota ?
perchè non posi ? e perchè a’ piedi hai l’ ale ? ”

“Who are you that, like no mortal woman,
heaven adorns and endows you with so much gracefulness?
Why don’t you pause / stay still? And why, on your feet, do you have wings?

“ Io son l’ Occasïone, a pochi nota ;
e la cagion che sempre mi travagli
è perchè io tengo un piè sopra una rota.

“I am Occasio, by few noticed;
and the reason that I am always agitated
is because I keep one foot upon a wheel.

Volar non è ch’ al mio correr s’ agguagli ;
e però l’ ale a’ piedi mi mantengo,
acciò nel corso mio ciascuno abbagli.

Flying is not equal to my running;
however, by the wings on my feet I support/maintain myself,
so that in my course/path of a river/trajectory, I blind everyone.

Gli sparsi miei capei dinanzi io tengo ;
con essi mi ricopro il petto e ’l volto,
perch’ un non mi conosca quando io vengo.

My hairs I keep spread in front;
with these I cover my chest and face,
so no one recognizes me when I come.

Dietro dal capo ogni capel m’ è tolto,
onde in van si affatica un, se gli avviene
ch’ io l’ abbia trapassato, o s’ io mi volto.”

Behind my head all my hair is removed,
so that in vain one wearies/strains himself, if it happens
that I have passed him by, or if I turn away.”

“Dimmi : chi è colei che teco viene ? ”
“ È Penitenza ; e però nota e intendi :
chi non sa prender me, costei ritiene.

“Tell me: who is she who with you comes?”
“It’s Penitence ; but take note and understand:
whoever does not know how to catch me, she catches keeps her.

E tu, mentre parlando il tempo spendi,
occupato da molti pensier vani,
già non t’ avvedi, lasso ! e non comprendi

And you, while speaking, are wasting time,
busied with thinking about many trivial things,
already you don’t notice, poor fellow! and you don’t comprehend

com’ io ti son fuggita tra le mani ! ”

how I have slipped through your hands!”


ITALIAN ORIGINAL

Niccolò Machiavelli, 1469-1527

     “ Chi sei tu, che non par donna mortale,
di tanta grazia il ciel t’ adorna e dota ?
perchè non posi ? e perchè a’ piedi hai l’ ale ? ”
     “ Io son l’ Occasïone, a pochi nota ;
e la cagion che sempre mi travagli
è perchè io tengo un piè sopra una rota.
     Volar non è ch’ al mio correr s’ agguagli ;
e però l’ ale a’ piedi mi mantengo,
acciò nel corso mio ciascuno abbagli.
     Gli sparsi miei capei dinanzi io tengo ;
con essi mi ricopro il petto e ’l volto,
perch’ un non mi conosca quando io vengo.
     Dietro dal capo ogni capel m’ è tolto,
onde in van si affatica un, se gli avviene
ch’ io l’ abbia trapassato, o s’ io mi volto.”
     “Dimmi : chi è colei che teco viene ? ”
“ È Penitenza ; e però nota e intendi :
chi non sa prender me, costei ritiene.
     E tu, mentre parlando il tempo spendi,
occupato da molti pensier vani,
già non t’ avvedi, lasso ! e non comprendi
     com’ io ti son fuggita tra le mani ! ”

[Glenn Wright]

This is delightful, Julie. I would expect Machiavelli to expound on the importance of luck and seizing one’s opportunities. I like the addition of Penitence to the allegory. It’s fun to contrast this poem with the Greek piece on Καιρός. In Latin texts, we usually find a goddess of opportunity rather than a god. I suspect that this has something to do with the genders of the nouns. The Greek καιρός is masculine, while the Latin Fortuna and Occasio are feminine, as are Fortuna and Occasione in Italian. The Greeks also had a goddess, Τύχη, to whom gamblers often prayed. Opportunity appears as a male in Edmund Spenser’s Sonnet 70 in his sonnet cycle, Amoretti, lines 7-8: “Tell her [the speaker’s girlfriend] the joyous time will not be stayed / Unless she do by him [Opportunity] by the forelock take.”

The goddess in Machiavelli’s poem must have been spectacularly beautiful to be able to pull off such a bizarre hairstyle.

Thanks, Julie. I enjoyed this. Coincidentally, I’m working on a poem in terza rima hat I’m planning to post next week.
Glenn

[Carl Copeland]

A revelation, Julie—Machiavelli the poet! Did you come to this via Posidippus or the other way round?

     “Who are you, whom a grace that heaven brings
to no mere mortal woman beautifies?

More convoluted than the original, but I know how tricky terza rima is, so I should shut up and admire how deftly you’ve brought it off.

The reason that my fluttering’s never done
is as this wheel beneath one foot implies.

Again a bit convoluted, again for the rhyme, and again I’m telling myself to shut up. Triple rhymes don’t grow on trees.

my wings, though, boost my feet’s efficiency

I like this better than the original. Clever.

until their flow’s unseen by anyone.

“Unseen” is a little weak for blinding speed. How about “has blinded everyone”?

     Behind my head, there isn’t any trace
of hair, so people fumble futilely
when I’ve passed by, or flown—whichever case.”

“Behind my head” is odd; how about “But in the back, my head lacks any trace …”? Those familiar with the symbolism will know why people fumble when a half-bald head passes, but the rest would benefit from a hint like “reach out” instead of “fumble.” I also want “as is the case,” but won’t argue the point. (Glenn’s right about the hairstyle; not just anyone can pull that off.)

She catches those who can’t grasp grasping me.

I can’t process “grasp grasping,” and I don’t think there’s much difference in this case between knowing how and being able, so I’d suggest “can’t lay hands on” or, if necessary, something that goes with “opportunity.”

     And you, while you’re still wasting time in chat,
kept busy with your idle thoughts’ demands,
don’t see it yet, poor soul, nor know it, that
I’m gone now, having slipped right through your hands!”

I’d prefer “or” to “nor.” “You don’t see it ... that I’m gone” is a little odd, and a colon or dash before “that” would fix it, but I actually don’t think I’d want you to break your stride metrically in the rousing home stretch.

A great matching pair with Posidippus!

[Julie Steiner]

Thanks, Glenn and Carl. Draft Two posted above in response to your suggestions, and to try out a few other things.

Glenn, I'm glad you're enjoying this multi-millennial game of Telephone. Machiavelli's version is pretty close to Ausonius's Latin version, minus the beginning, which (like Posidippus's) begins with questions about the sculptor (who has become Phidias rather than Lysippos). But Machiavelli omits any mention that we are looking at a statue, probably because he wrote this as part of a set of capitoli that also contemplates Luck, Ingratitude, and Ambition — each dedicated to someone with the power to put in a good word for him and perhaps help to shorten his prison sentence.

Carl, I can't remember which of these two poems I encountered first. I stumbled across the Posippidus when I was looking through the Greek Anthology for poems about insects (of which there are a veritable plague — grasshoppers, cicadas, mosquitoes, flies). I stumbled across Machiavelli's poem when I was learning Italian and looking through an anthology of Italian poems to see if I could make any sense of it yet. This is his most famous poem, but he actually wrote quite a lot of poetry, and at least one play — most of it composed in the same writer's retreat as Boethius, the Duke of Orleans, Miguel de Cervantes, et al.

Thanks very much for your helpful feedback.

[Glenn Wright]

There must be something about prison that inspires literary output. Perhaps all the spare time if one is fortunate enough not to have to do hard labor and if one’s hands are not chained to the wall. Prison is certainly cheaper than writers’ workshops—I’ll lave to do some research on that.
Classical writers, both Greek and Latin, were fascinated with insects. You could fill an encyclopedia just with their writings on bees. Vergil’s Georgics devotes a whole book to them.

[Julie Steiner]

LL15–17 revised above, in part because I realized that I'd badly bungled "o s’ io mi volto." Yikes.

Yup, I remember the bees from Virgil's Georgics, and also the extended metaphor in the Aeneid of Dido's ruling over those busily building Carthage, as if she were a hive's "king."

[Carl Copeland]

A few thoughts on draft two:

     “Who are you, that — more than heaven brings
to mortal women — grace so beautifies?

Not sure this is an improvement. I should’ve kept my trap shut.

The reason that I fidget? Poised on one
foot, atop a wheel, I improvise.

I’m not sure how “improvising,” whatever it means here, leads to fidgeting.

     My flying can’t compete with how I run,
but wings enhance my feet’s efficiency
until their rush is blinding anyone.

I like “rush” better than “flow,” but the continuous seems out of place.

I like all the rest of your changes. Can “penitenza” in Italian do the more secular work of “regret”?

[Julie Steiner]

Draft Three posted above. Thanks for all the productive niggles and nudges, Carl.

I'm confident that "Regret," "Remorse," and "Sorrow" are all reasonable translations for Ausonius's Latin (Pænitentia), which is cognate with Machiavelli's Italian (Penitenza).

Actually, Ausonius only uses the Latin word Pænitentia in the title of his version ("In simulacrum Occasionis et Pænitentiae," "On an image of Opportunity and Penitence"). In his poem itself, he uses the Greek name, Metanoea (Μετάνοια), for this personage. Lewis & Short's Greek dictionary defines that as "change of mind or heart, repentance, regret, afterthought, correction," and one of the examples cited is from Thucydides (c. 460 – c. 400 BCE). So the concept isn't necessarily wedded to religious notions of conversion from sin, even if the Italian definitions of Penitenza seem to stay in that realm.

The continuous "it's blinding" doesn't bother me, but thanks for letting me know that it bothered you. Maybe changing it to "I'm blinding" has helped. Maybe not.

[Carl Copeland]

Thoughts on draft three:

     “Who are you? With grace enough to beat
a mortal woman’s, heaven’s gifted you.

Inversion overload. How about:

     “Who are you? You’ve grace enough to beat
a mortal woman’s—heaven’s gift to you.

or

     “Who are you?—with grace enough to beat
a mortal woman’s, heaven’s gift to you.

or

     “Who are you? A grace enough to beat
a mortal’s is the heaven’s gift to you.

Why fidget, then? And why have wingèd feet?

I’d replace “have” with “the.” “Have” seems to imply that it was her choice.

     “I’m Opportunity, perceived by few.
The reason that I flit? To stay on one
foot, atop a wheel, the way I do.

I like what you’ve done here, but “flit” shifts the sense—perhaps in the right direction. Do you see her in motion as she speaks? “Fidget” made me think she’d paused and was itching to get back in motion, but “perchè non posi?” seems to contradict that.

     Flying can’t compete with how I run,
but wings enhance my feet’s efficiency
so on my way, I’m blinding everyone.

I wouldn’t have a problem with “I’m blinding you,” but “everyone” implies that she does it regularly, and the continuous doesn’t normally work like that.

     “But tell me: coming after you, who’s she?”
“That’s Regret. Take note, get this down pat!

You’ve convinced me about “regret,” but that line’s headlessness trips me up every time. How about “Her name’s Regret”?

[Julie Steiner]

Blue tweaks to Draft Three posted above. Thanks, Carl.

Brown tweaks now added as well, correcting another problem with my literal English crib and fussing with some other stuff. I'm much happier with it now.