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In the faithful heart a second spring comes
again, a new dawn, lovely with flowers branching everywhere brought forth by a Sun who returns each year perpetually. Time can't change a heart lit by that morning's splendor. No dark night, no day left alone, waiting--it abides everywhere, as light glimpsed in this or that dwelling-place or form. The sweet flowers are ideal dreams, fragrant with the return of the Sun's gay holy light which makes, feeds, opens, sustains them; the branches are living, green, made from hope sent me from my sweet sun. I know I shall know joy with him in the glad light once more. |
An image of the Italian text from Visconti's 1840 edition |
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Notes: From V LI:51 and B A1:33:19. See also R XLIIII:121. Translations: Roscoe 106-7; Lefèvre-Deumier, 75; Thérault 187-8. Key |
