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Updated: September 2, 2025
And savage people, nations and tribes Guahibo, Aguaricoto, Ayano, Maco, Piaroa, Quiriquiripo, Tuparito shall I name a hundred more? It would be useless, Rima; they are all savages, and live widely scattered in the forests, hunting with bow and arrow and the zabatana. Consider, then, how large Guayana is!" "Guayana Guayana! Do I not know all this is Guayana? But beyond, and beyond, and beyond?
The main movement of Poliziano's poem is intrusted to the traditional octave stanza, but we find passages of terza rima. There are also choral passages which suggest the existence of the frottola, the carnival song and the ballata. The play is introduced by Mercury acting as prologue. This was in accordance with time honored custom which called for an "announcer of the festival."
But indeed it was on this very bay, and almost certainly in the Ariel, that he wrote those perfect lines: "She left me at the silent time." It was here too, in Lerici, that Shelley wrote "The Triumph of Life," that splendid fragment in terza rima, which is like a pageant suddenly broken by the advent of Death: that ends with the immortal question "Then, what is life? I cried,"
That is what I meant when I said that if an animal should stumble against their legs, they would lift up their noses and pass on without seeing it. For in that wood there is one law, the law that Rima imposes, and outside of it a different law." "I am glad that you have told me this," I replied.
Sometimes he said that it was at an immense distance, in a great wilderness full of serpents larger than the trunks of great trees, and of evil spirits and savage men, slayers of all strangers. At other times he affirmed that no such place existed; that it was a tale told by the Indians; such false things did he say to me to Rima, your child. O mother, can you believe such wickedness?
I concluded that it would be best for Rima's sake as well as my own to spend a few of the days before setting out on our journey with my Indian friends, who would be troubled at my long absence; and, accordingly, next morning I bade good-bye to the old man, promising to return in three or four days, and then started without seeing Rima, who had quitted the house before her usual time.
This arbiter is none other than Lodovico Sforza himself . So far the eclogues have all been in Sannazzaro's terza rima.
"Rima," I said, "do you remember where we first talked together under a tree one morning, when you spoke of your mother, telling me that she was dead?" "Yes." "I am going now to that spot to wait for you. I must speak to you again in that place about this journey to Riolama." As she kept silent, I added: "Will you promise to come to me there?" She shook her head, turning half away.
And so our conversation appeared to be at an end. But after a few moments my intense desire to discover whether the savages knew aught of Rima or not made me hazard a question. "Do you live here in the forest now?" I asked. He shook his head, and after a while said: "We come to kill animals." "You are like me now," I returned quickly; "you fear nothing."
So ran my thoughts as I rested on the warm ground, gazing up into the foliage, green as young grass in the lower, shady parts, and above luminous with the bright sunlight, and full of the murmuring sounds of insect life. My every action, word, thought, had my feeling for Rima as a motive. Why, I began to ask myself, was Rima so much to me?
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