You were the light of my existence,
but neither time nor the seasons favored
your victories nor your Victoria:
your sword, character, and undaunted heart
your servants in the sun's heat, winter's cold;
your foresight and self-control swept away
all the forces marshalled against you--not
what you did, but how you did it won all.
Broad rivers, high mountains, proud walled cities,
disdainful captains leading keen killers
your skill and daring made victory yours.
You reached those heights this world prizes the most:
now you are happy in another realm;
eternal green meadows compose your crown.
|An image of the Italian text from Visconti's 1840 edition|
From V V:5. See also B A1:6:6; R XV:52. Translations: Jerrold, 80; Gibaldi, 35. Key