Here I lived, in this blest light: your kindness
and strength kept us together--by myself
I felt death's breath, a holding tight, waiting
only alive in my beloved's arms.
Now you are in Paradise I can know
no good or welcome what is on this earth.
I pray: come, help my faithful heart against
our old enemy, the well-armored world.
Scatter these dense clouds circling around me
that I may try on swift wings to fly to
you following the path taken by you.
I close my eyes on this frail peace, these death-
haunted days, filled with lies, to open them
on wondrous illumined endless quiet.
|An image of the Italian text from Visconti's 1840 edition|
V IX:9. From B A2:44:77. See also R LXIIII:179. Translation: McAuliffe 81. Key