The voyage of my life at last has reached,
across a stormy sea, in a fragile boat,
the common port all must pass through, to give
an accounting for every evil and pious deed.

So now I recognize how laden with error
was the affectionate fantasy
that made art an idol and sovereign to me,
like all things men want in spite of their best interests.

What will become of all my thoughts of love,
once gay and foolish, now that I'm nearing two deaths?
I'm certain of one, and the other looms over me.

Neither painting nor sculpture will be able any longer
to calm my soul, now turned toward that divine love
that opened his arms on the cross to take us in.

(The Poetry of Michelangelo: An Annotated Translation By James M. Saslow, pp. 476, Sonnet 285)

一条纤弱的小船,
带我穿越惊涛骇浪,
来到生命之旅最后的港湾.
我在这里同所有人一样,
为途中每一次的善恶接受审判.

我曾奉艺术为偶像和主宰.
现在我终于意识到,
我狂热追求的只是虚幻.
就像人们无视人生的最大利益,
而只顾所有世俗的贪念.

曾经快乐而愚蠢的我,
现在已接近两个死亡.
一个明白无误,另一个日趋明朗.
我的情爱,我的思想,
将化为何物,去向何方?

绘画或雕塑,
都不能再安慰我的灵魂.
我要追随那神圣的爱,
祂已在十字架上张开双臂,
为我们打开天堂之门.