Laurea Camonium circumdedit: illa virescens
Semper, quemquam cetas prona senescat, erit.
D. THOMÁS TAMAIO DE VARGAS, H. R.
IN EFFIGIEM MAGNI LUD. DE CAMÕES EPICORUM POETARUM IN HISPANIA PRINCIPIS
Gradia Lysiadum solus celebrare trophæa
Andinâ merui Mæoniâque tuba.
Dextera Camonii gladium tenet, ipsa lyramque:
Et Phobo, et Marte militat una manus.
Hic situs est Lysiis Camonius ille, Camænis
Qui dedit, et sumpsit nomen, amenus olor.
Lysiacæ princeps, atque unica gloria Musa,
Seu cantare lyrå, sive sonare tuba.
Dulcibus auritum tenuit qui cantibus Orbem
Dum Lysiæ ad numeros arma, virosque canit.
Mors ipsa argutæ capta est dulcedine vocis,
Nec passa omnino tale perire melos.
Post cineres adeo viva illa silentia cantat:
Linguâ illâ tumulus clamat, et Orbis amat.
Quin etiam variis modulatur carmina Linguis
Italo, et Hispano, Gallico et ore sonat.
Quæ vitam Heroum factis modulamine laudum
Lingua dedit, nunquam debuit illa mori.
Contigit huic uni, quod Musa negavit olori:
Nam sua post etiam funera cantat olor.
Hospitium vivo, tumulum post fata negavit
Ingrata heu! meritis patria terra tuis. At vaga sydereum posuit tibi fama sepulchrum
Qua sub non uno nomine terra patet, Qua celer Euphrates, et qua secat arva Timavus,
Et terra extremo cingitur Occeano. Vilior in gemis Lodoice auroque jaceres.
Unica fama potest esse tibi tumulus.
Vasco, le cui felici ardite antenne
In contro al Sol, che ne riporta il giorno,
Spiegar le vele, e fer colà ritorno
Dove egli par, che di cadere accenne:
Non più di te per aspero mar sostenne
Quel, che fece al Ciclope oltraggio et scorno:
Ne chi turbò l’Arpie nel suo soggiorno,
Ne diè piu bel subietto à colte penne
Et hor quella del colto, e buon Luigi
Tant' oltre stende il glorioso volo
Che i tuoi spalmati legni andar men lunge.
Ond' aquelli, a cui s' alza il nostro Polo,
Et a chi ferma incontra i suoi vestigi
Per lui del corso tuo la fama aggiunge.
TRADUCÇÃO DO SR. JOSÉ RAMOS COELHO
Gama audaz e feliz que o mar sulcaste
Por ver o berço donde o sol nascia,
E, affrontando outra vez a equorea via,
Á terra onde elle morre emfim tornaste;
Mais das ondas a furia exp'rimentaste
Do que Ulysses, entregue á sorte impia,
Mais que Enéas assumpto á poesia
Na tua grande empreza tu legaste.
Mas ora de Camões a musa sôa
Tanto em seu alto brado glorioso,
Que inda mais longe que os teus lenbos võa,
E as nações o teu nome já famoso
Leva cingido de perpetua c'roa
No seu canto sublime e sonoroso.
EMBAIXADOR INGLEZ NA CORTE DE LISBOA E TRADUCTOR DOS LUSIADAS
SPAINE gave me noble Birth: COIMBRA Arts:
LISBON a high-plac't love and Courtly parts:
AFFRICK, a Refuge when the Court did frowne:
WARRE, at an eye's expence, a fair renowne
TRAVAYLE, experience, with noe short sight
Of India, and the World; boot wich I write
INDIA a life, wich I gave there for Lost
On Mecons waves (a wreck and Exile) tost
To boot, this POEM, held up in one hand
Wilst with the other I swam safe to land:
TASSO, a sonet, and (what's greater. Yit)
The honour to give Hints to Such a witt
PHILIP a cordial (the ill Fortune see!
To cure my Wants when those had new kill'd mee
My Country (Nothingo-yes) Immortall Prayse
(So did I, Her) Beasts cannot browze on Bayes
Tho' fiercest tribes her galling fetters drag
Proud Spain must strike to Lusitania's flag,
Whose ampler folds, in conscious triumph spread,
Wave o'er her NAVAL POET'S laureate head.
Ye Nymphs of Tagus, from your golden cell,
That caught the echo of his tuneful shell,
Rise, and to deck your darling's shrine provide
The richest treasures that the deep may hide:
From every land let grateful Commerce shower
Her tribute to the Bard who sung her power;
As those rich gales, from whence his Gama caught
A pleasing earnest of the prize he sought,
The balmy fragrance of the East dispense,
So steals is song on the delighted sense,
Astonishing with sweets unknown before,
Those who ne'er tasted but of classic lore.
Immortal Bard! thy name wtth Gama vies,
Thou, like thy Hero, with propicious skies
The snil of bold adventure hast unfurld,
An in the Epic Ocean found a world.
'Twas thine to blend the Eagle and the Dove,
At once the Bard of Glory and of love:
Thy thankless country heard thy varying lyre
To Petrarch' softness melt, and swell to Homer's fire!
Boast and lament, ingrateful Land, a name
In life, in death, thy glory and thy shame.
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