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Now you will rest forever,
My tired heart. The fabulous deceit
That i myself believed eternal has ended.
Ended. How sharply i feel,
In we of the dear deceit,
There is no hope, desire being spent.
Rest forever. So many
palpitations. Your flutterings
Serve no one, nor do you dignify the earth
with your sighs. Life is bitter and empty,
nothing more. The world is a slough.
Calm yourself now. Despair.
For the last time. Fate gave your kind
no gift but death. At last
nature disdains you, the brute
power that, lurking, imposes the common day,
and the infinite variety of things.
~by Giacomo Leopardi from the Italian version, and yet the tears dont stop reading these lines, knowing these lines, living these lines....
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