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Here I lived, in this blest light: your kindness
and strength kept us together--by myself I felt death's breath, a holding tight, waiting only alive in my beloved's arms. Now you are in Paradise I can know no good or welcome what is on this earth. I pray: come, help my faithful heart against our old enemy, the well-armored world. Scatter these dense clouds circling around me that I may try on swift wings to fly to you following the path taken by you. I close my eyes on this frail peace, these death- haunted days, filled with lies, to open them on wondrous illumined endless quiet. |
An image of the Italian text from Visconti's 1840 edition |
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Notes: V IX:9. From B A2:44:77. See also R LXIIII:179. Translation: McAuliffe 81. Key |
