SiStan ChapLee

Friday, September 30, 2016

Whatcha gonna do now, Tancred? (6)

[16: 38]

Né sotto l'arme già sentir gli parve
Caldo o fervor come di foco intenso;
Ma pur se fosser vere fiamme o larve
Mal poté giudicar sì tosto il senso:
Perché repente, a pena toccò, sparve
Quel simolacro, e giunse un nuvol denso
Che portò notte e verno; e 'l verno anchora
Si dileguò con l'ombra in picciola hora.

Nor did it seem to him, under the armor,
To feel the heat of any powerful fire.
But whether those flames were true or fake,
His own senses had no time to verify:
Suddenly, as soon as he touched it, that
Image disappeared, and a thick cloud came,
Which brought night and cold -- and the very cold (*)
Vanished with its shadows in a moment.

(*) With a faint echo from Dante, Inferno 3: 87.