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When the hot pain presses in and constricts
my heart, I sit down by the jeweled coals fueling it: I let the flames enthrall me: my soul consents to this to know such sweetness. To cure evil draw near, explore the pain, understand the place: so I turn to him, accept as a kind of game, the heavy weight of a fear, anxiety, breathlessness. And then there's a gleam in his eyes, the light of my life, rich hope and beauty are mine: surely all these augur a happy end ... Who would not worship unequalled courage? Who would not gaze at the dawn of the Sun? Who would not wonder at a new Phoenix? |
An image of the Italian text from Visconti's 1840 edition |
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Notes: V CV:105. From B A2:32:71; R LXXXV:238. Translation: Lawley 45-6. The 1st line is echoed by Bernardino Rota in his 9th eclogue (dedicated to Vittoria). Key |
