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I can't let go the deeply-rooted faith that sustained me when I was in love and happy; yes, now they devour me and I am wretched as I search for him in strange steep paths. But surely our religion says to dismiss worldly longings, value true tears, resign ourselves to looking to the bright day which follows all this darkness. These foolish rhymes come from a noble grief; my motives cannot be wrong when I enact a belief in a loss which is irreparable. I shall die with my heart's springtime desires intact, breathing out honestly this aching pain. |
An image of the Italian text from Visconti's 1840 edition |
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Notes: From V LXXIX:79. See also B A1:65:35; R LXXX:223. Translation: Lefèvre-Deumier, 87. In response to Veronica Gambara's "Mentre da vaghi e giovenil penseri": "Upon young, erring thoughts I too once fed". Key |
