Classic Poem

Make fast every door, from all exit withhold me,
And wrap ye the thickest of veils round my head!
The shades of a horrible nightmare enfold me:
With yellow I 've witnessed the skies overspread.

A foul stench of sewers and corpses was stealing
From the ancient Palazzo which faces us there:
" To the gallows with Piero Capponi" were pealing
The Bargello's bells over city and square.

And from the fair hills, which, when danger impended,
Roared death to the German invader, a loud
Sound of litanies slowly came down to me blended
With the Misereres of a fear-stricken crowd.

Ferruccio with hands humbly clasped lay prostrated
And begged of the wretch Maramaldo his life:
And Gian della Bella, his hood raised, related
How Berto had threatened his nose with the knife.

And Dante tricked out as a clown I saw playing
Within Santa Croce the r├┤le of a guide:
" Oh, sirs, don't be nervous of us," he kept saying;
" Come in, sirs: our patrons are ye, and our pride.

" What matter if shame more or less pay our gentry?
I 'm a poet: of haggling I don't know the trick.
To the Ghetto of Italy all men have entry,
The people of Italy who 'd deign to kick?"

By a tombstone crouched Machiavel: to another
Who passed him he slyly winked, whispering low
(For I heard him): " A breast fair and broad has my mother
And soft, flowing tresses: she never says no.

" To the forums her paramours flock without payment,
Their Dorian halls are the scene of her lust:
On the Capitol's height she ungirdles her raiment,
And yields herself naked, o'er Scipio's dust."