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Gone brightness from the air, a light I knew,
gone from the sun and his sister, the moon, gone from earth; gone Venus silvery star, gaily whirling rings of shimmering light. Gone his brave heart, hardened by endurance, gone the chivalric soul, its beauty and integrity with all his virtues gone; the trees are bare, the fields without flowers. I see troubled waters and air like pitch; fire has no warmth, the wind lacks freshness; all things have lost their purpose and meaning. Since he I love is gone into the earth, nature's laws are confused--or else my grief is such reality is gone from me. |
An image of the Italian text from Visconti's 1840 edition |
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Notes: V XLI:41. From B A1:32:19. See also R XXXVIII:110. Translation: Roscoe 90 (verse), 105 (prose); Lefèvre-Deumier, 74; Thérault, 186. Key |
