Remember, my love, my fire, when you

Remember, my love, my fire, when you
were here, how love moved me to gaze at you,
how I longed to climb inside your skin and
become you--nothing was so bright as you.

I alone held that Mars the Gods envied,
grudged me and have shut away--and I pressed
his soul into mine--his outward beauty,
the pleasure of my eyes was not so dear

to me as his spirit when nobly stirred.
Thus trembling, eager, I study these sweet
gleams ever more gladly, spurning myself

and the world as sick and worthless. Light wings
of blest passion catch this heavy body--
if I should fall, I shall wake next to him.
An image of the Italian text from Visconti's 1840 edition
V IX:151. From B A2:46:78. Translation: Thérault 147-8. Key

Amaro Lagrimar
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