Reworking into English of a Sonnet by Michelangelo Buonarotti
The artist must see the conceptual
the marble will define.
The stone can only incline
to the hand that's intellectual.
No room for error. I promised the beautiful
that lies in you, Lady. But the light, the divine,
hid away. My fault there's no sign
of what seemed so real.
Well, there's no love there, nor your beauty -
Just hard luck and failure in each impossible
strike. This is now my fate and my destiny.
Your heart just offers me death and pity -
in the one moment. I'm ardent still, but unable.
Unable to find more than a blank of mortality.