My mind is only happy when grieving,
because for me sorrow and love have been
inseparable. I want wings to fly
after that golden light in paradise.
Before he died I followed behind him,
this was how we lived, we accepted it
without thought, caring nothing for all else:
now I seek him--a sweet journey up this.
steep path--drawn by the warmth of Venus' sphere--
gay flames which lead me on to the sun's sphere
ah there I glimpse him in strange radiance.
And as in a painting reality is
made unfamiliar--my portrait, the light
I follow challenges how he was known.
|An image of the Italian text from Visconti's 1840 edition|
V IV:146. From B A1:79:42. In MS F1, RA, V1, Ve2 Key