Poems
13.03.2010 / 19.25 pm
 
by Giacomo Leopardi
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It was always dear to me, this solitary hill,
and this hedgerow here, that closes out my view,
from so much of the ultimate horizon.
But sitting here, and watching here, in thought,
I create interminable spaces,
greater than human silences, and deepest
quiet, where the heart barely fails to terrify.
When I hear the wind, blowing among these leaves,
I go on to compare that infinite silence
with this voice, and I remember the eternal
and the dead seasons, and the living present,
and its sound, so that in this immensity
my thoughts are drowned, and shipwreck seems sweet
to me in this sea.


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Infinite

These solitary hills have always been dear to me.
Seated here, this sweet hedge, which blocks the distant horizon opening inner silences and interminable distances.
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To Himself

Now will you rest forever,
My tired heart. Dead is the last
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Votes: 2
 

To Silvia

Silvia, do you remember
the moments, in your mortal life,
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Votes: 1
 
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Wedding Song

THE tale of the Count our glad song shall record

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To A Vers Librist

"Oh bard," I said, "your verse is free;
The shackles that encumber me,
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Santa Fe In Winter

The city is closing for the night.
Stores draw their blinds one by one,
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Dies Irae

On that great, that awful day,
This vain world shall pass away.
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Courtship Of Miles Standish, The

I
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