A Sonnet by Michelangelo

Christ on the Cross by Michelangelo


The course of my life has already reached,

Across a stormy sea and in a fragile ship,

The common port, where we must give

An account of our every evil act or good deed.


The impassioned fantasy, which made

Art an idol and Lord over me,

Was, I now realize, full of error,

Like all else that men desire against their will.


What will become of my amorous thoughts, once so vain and gay,

Now that I draw near to my double death?

Of one death I am certain, and the other threatens me.


There is no painting nor sculpture now which quiets

The soul turned toward that divine Love

Which on the cross opened to take us in Its arms.

The Renaissance Reader, ed. by Bondanella & Musa published by Meridian

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