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Lucky woman whose soul defeated a mortal wound, whose noble heart shut out all desire for life; when terror pressed in on you, you preferred black oblivion. when you saw his blood-soaked clothes, your mind slipped, inward torment confused your perception, the voice of sanity could not be heard, and love painted the worst evil it knows. How many slow painful deaths did you spare yourself in one swift moment: you fled this world's deadly burden on light thoughtfree wings. But I, with a real acutely perceived loss, unsure of my love's proud desires, against my will quiet my heart's anguish. |
An image of the Italian text from Visconti's 1840 edition |
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Notes: From V CVIII:108. See also B A2:6:58; R LII:144-5 (these have different 1st quatrain & 1st tercet). Translation: Lefèvre-Deumier 83. Ref: Julia, third wife of Gnaeus Pompeius Magnus (106-48 BC). She died of grief upon seeing a servant carrying her husband's blood-stained cloak. Key |
