Giovanni Crescimbeni (1663–1728)

Translated by James Glassford, of Dougalston
Io chiedo al Ciel.

I ASK the Sky, what new and daring foe

With hand so high against his God rebelled?

It answers, Man; and when he struck the blow,

In blackness of eclipse the sun I held.

I ask the Ocean: heaving from below,

Man, it replies; by Man He was compelled

To suffer thus, and with convulsive throe

Unwonted tides my lowest channel swelled.

I ask the Land: with long and bitter groan,

Man shook me to the centre, is its cry;

And still upon my face the marks are shown.

To Man, whose laughing hours in pleasure fly,

To man, incensed I turn: proud Man alone,

Tossing his lofty head, makes no reply.