I have had a good dream--a beautiful
hand untied the knots pressing in on my
heart, cut away the ancient scars, leaving
not a trace of damage, and led me from
false images heaped up over the years,
mistakes which were all too evident.
My mind clears, and I'm no longer haunted
by regrets, anxieties whose sweet fruits
were but more bitterness. Lightning never
split clouds with a crack so sudden, so violent.
The veil parted, and I felt sound once more.
I felt a hand re-form me as I prayed,
the hand that made that sky so gentle that
my heart trembles still--with joy and wonder.
|An image of the Italian text from Visconti's 1840 edition|
V I:387. See also B A1:84:45. Translations: Lefévre-Deumier 39; Thèrault 149. Key