Giordano Bruno (1548–1600)

Translated by John Addington Symonds

NOW that these wings to speed my wish ascend,

The more I feel vast air beneath my feet,

The more toward boundless air on pinions fleet,

Spurning the earth, soaring to heaven, I tend:

Nor makes them stoop their flight the direful end

Of Dædal’s son; but upward still they beat.

What life the while with this death could compete,

If dead to earth at last I must descend?

My own heart’s voice in the void air I hear.

Where wilt thou bear me, O rash man! Recall

Thy daring will! This boldness waits on fear!

Dread not, I answer, that tremendous fall:

Strike through the clouds, and smile when death is near,

If death so glorious be our doom at all!