In high school, I heard a translation of a sonnet attributed to Michelangelo. It was in a video about the Renaissance artists. I went up to the teacher after class and asked if I could play it back. I rewound and played the laserdisc over and over till I had the whole thing written down.
Ten years later, I think that piece of paper is in my apartment somewhere. But I can't find it, so here's what I remember:
In a frail boat through stormy seas, my life In its course has now reached the harbor The bar of which all men must cross To render an account of good and evil done.
I now know how laden with error Was that fantasy which made Art for me An idol and a king, and how mistaken Is that earthly love which all men seek.
What of those thoughts of love, once light and gay, As now I approach a twofold death? One is certain; the other menaces. No brush, no chisel quiets the soul Once turned to the divine love of him Who stretches out his arms on the cross.