ALLA LUNA | TO THE MOON |
Giacomo Leopardi | trans. Alan Marshfield |
O graziosa luna, io mi rammento che, or volge l’anno, sovra questo colle io venia pien d’angoscia a rimirarti: e tu pendevi allor su quella selva siccome or fai, che tutta la rischiari. Ma nebuloso e tremulo dal pianto che mi sorgea sul ciglio, alle mie luci il tuo volto apparia, che travagliosa era mia vita: ed è, né cangia stile, or mia diletta luna. E pur mi giova la ricordanza, e il noverar l’etate del mio dolore. Oh come grato occorre nel tempo giovanil, quando ancor lungo la speme e breve ha la memoria il corso, il rimembrar delle passate cose, ancor che triste, e che l’affanno duri! |
Oh comely moon, tonight I am reminded That twelve months gone I trod upon this hill Racked to the heart, to gaze on you again. Above the forest then brightly you loomed As you do now, so everything was clear. But mistily and tremulous with tears, Which surged into my eyes until they brimmed, Appeared your face, for travail without end Was life to me, and is, and will not change, Oh my beloved moon. And yet it soothes, Recording thus and counting off my years Of lamentation. For oh how pleasant is, In youthful days - when still the course of hope Runs far ahead and memory is brief - The recollection of the things that were, Although yet sad and still the pain endures. |
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Trans. copyright © Alan Marshfield 2001