Xix. _The Amulet Of Love._

Io mi son caro assai più.

Far more than I was wont myself I prize:
With you within my heart I rise in rate,
Just as a gem engraved with delicate
Devices o'er the uncut stone doth rise;
Or as a painted sheet exceeds in price
Each leaf left pure and in its virgin state:
Such then am I since I was consecrate
To be the mark for arrows from your eyes.
Stamped with your seal I'm safe where'er I go,
Like one who carries charms or coat of mail
Against all dangers that his life assail
Nor fire nor water now may work me woe;
Sight to the blind I can restore by you,
Heal every wound, and every loss renew.

by Michelangelo Buonarroti

Comments (5)

Some poems deserve to be famed. They're the ones that don't get famed..
label them liberals and question their patriotism... We bow to your wisdom, sansei, and are still waiting for the updat of the Prince
final verse, line 7...inser the word 'to' before 'save'...this is scathing and what a fantastic idea to mirror 'The Art of War'. this is my absolute favourite of yours. it is an uncompromising classic. brilliant, Michael.
I'd laugh if it weren't so frightening.
Nice one Michael: -) for your next piece may I suggest Machiavellis's The Prince, another old favourite here: -)