We fear the thing we desire too much:

We fear the thing we desire too much:
from within the soul rejoices, yet moans,
for her eagerness hurts the heart in need,
who longs to be whole fails to perceive what
daring, boldness such love requires--
Then after, clear-eyed, how is this? the mind's
released, all discontent is petty:
bliss blots out all else, blest oblivion:
ah, in my dream's greatest intensities,
the false is false, truth truer than ever.

An image of the Italian text from Visconti's 1840 edition
V "Madrigale," 158. From B A2:48:79. In MS CASI. Translation: Jerrold, 84; McAuliffe 166. Key

Amaro Lagrimar
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