Michelangelo, the poet ( in a letter describing the ardous conditions under which he worked)
-
- I've grown a goitre by dwelling in this den–
- As cats from stagnant streams in Lombardy,
- Or in what other land they hap to be–
- Which drives the belly close beneath the chin:
- My beard turns up to heaven; my nape falls in,
- Fixed on my spine: my breast-bone visibly
- Grows like a harp: a rich embroidery
- Bedews my face from brush-drops thick and thin.
- My loins into my paunch like levers grind:
- My buttock like a crupper bears my weight;
- My feet unguided wander to and fro;
- In front my skin grows loose and long; behind,
- By bending it becomes more taut and strait;
- Crosswise I strain me like a Syrian bow:
- Whence false and quaint, I know,
- Must be the fruit of squinting brain and eye;
- For ill can aim the gun that bends awry.
-
- Come then, Giovanni, try
- To succour my dead pictures and my fame;
- Since foul I fare and painting is my shame.
Michelangelo, the poet ( in a letter describing the ardous conditions under which he worked)
