À quoi bon façonner tant de fantoches
s’ils m’ont réduit à finir comme qui,
ayant franchi les mers, se noie dans un crachat ?
L’art si prisé, qui me valut naguère
tant de renom, m’a conduit à ceci :
pauvre, sénile, esclave aux mains d’autrui,
je suis perdu, si je ne meurs bientôt.
*
Che giova voler far tanti bambocci,
se m’han condotto al fin, come colui
che passò ’l mar e poi affogò ne’ mocci?
L’arte pregiata, ov’alcun tempo fui
di tant’opinïon, mi rec’a questo,
povero, vecchio e servo in forz’altrui,
ch’i’ son disfatto, s’i’ non muoio presto.
*
What was the point of making all those puppets,
if this is where they got me: a man
who swam the ocean and drowned in his own snot?
The touted art, for which I was a legend in my time,
has brought me to this pass:
poor and grown old, a slave to other people,
I am undone if I do not die soon.
***
Michelangelo Buonarroti (Caprese, 6 mars 1475 – Rome, 18 février 1564) – Extrait de Rime /267. I’ sto rinchiuso come la midolla
Jeu de briques
Snake
Pacman
Bubble