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If I could see him and those who are gone, bright lights who shine in my childhood landscape, who protected and made my native home gay, whose deeds were those of ancient heroes; if they were all around me, they would form for me a vast lovely sheltering sky, a shield against these angry ruthless lights, enemy presences who combine to obstruct and do me harm. My life's thread was twisted into theirs, and when the envy- filled Fates cut, they snapped my hopes--and those of all joined to us. The truth is I died long ago--disburdened, free of the world, I stay to try my dream of free flight to him. |
An image of the Italian text from Visconti's 1840 edition |
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Notes: From V XLV:45. See also B A1:83:44; R CVI:305-306. Key |
