|
When Death dissolved the dear knot from childhood captivating us under the Heavens, in the natural world, through love, she took my life's object, my heart's food, and then bound my soul--I clutched ever tighter to him. I value and praise this snare: it keeps me from worldly behavior and in the path of integrity unswervingly--fruit cannot rot, flowers don't die while I sit crying in this lovely garden. We had no children, but his chivalry joined with my name in these poems lends this earth a new splendour. God denied me other graces, Death hides him from me, still I live through him, victorious. |
An image of the Italian text from Visconti's 1840 edition |
|
Notes: From V XXII:22 (frank, intense). See also Bullock A1:30:18 (self-censored) ; R LXVI:183. Translation: Roscoe, 341. Key |
