Giacomo Leopardi

“ Such happiness, which weighs upon the mind,
And turns to poison pleasure that has passed,
Did still its thorn within my bosom lodge,
As I the past recalled; but shame, indeed,
Left not its cruel sting within this heart.
To heaven, to you, ye gentle souls, I swear,
No base desire intruded on my thought;
But with a pure and sacred flame I burned.
That flame still lives, and that affection pure;
Still in my thought that lovely image breathes,
From which, save heavenly, I no other joy,
Have ever known; my only comfort, now! ”

“ What saidst thou, heart, when she departed, who
Had caused thee all thy throbs, and suffering?
No sooner had I felt within, the heat
Of love's first flame, than with it flew away
The gentle breeze, that fanned it into life.
Sleepless I lay, until the dawn of day;
The steeds, that were to leave me desolate,
Their hoofs were beating at my father's gate.
And I, in mute suspense, poor timid fool,
With eye that vainly would the darkness pierce,
And eager ear intent, lay, listening,
That voice to hear, if, for the last time, I
Might catch the accents from those lovely lips ”