The Ginestra, (Count Giacomo Leopardi Poems)
OR THE FLOWER OF THE WILDERNESS. Here, on the arid ridge Of dead Vesuvius, Exterminator terrible, That by no other ...
OR THE FLOWER OF THE WILDERNESS. Here, on the arid ridge Of dead Vesuvius, Exterminator terrible, That by no other ...
TO THE MARQUIS GINO CAPPONI. I was mistaken, my dear Gino. Long And greatly have I erred. I fancied life ...
Approaching now the end of his abode On earth, Consalvo lay; complaining once, Of his hard fate, but now quite ...
This wearisome and this distressing sleep That we call life, O how dost thou support, My Pepoli? With what hopes ...
ON HIS DISCOVERY OF THE LOST BOOKS OF CICERO,"DE REPUBLICA." Italian bold, why wilt thou never cease The fathers from ...
Ye dear stars of the Bear, I did not think I should again be turning, as I used, To see ...
Though all the nations now Peace gathers under her white wings, The minds of Italy will ne'er be free From ...
I thought I had forever lost, Alas, though still so young, The tender joys and sorrows all, That ...
OR OF THE BEGINNINGS OF THE HUMAN RACE. Illustrious fathers of the human race, Of you, the song of your ...
ON HER APPROACHING MARRIAGE. Since now thou art about to leave Thy father's quiet house, And all the phantoms and ...
WHERE IS SEEN A YOUNG MAIDEN, DEAD, IN THE ACT OF DEPARTING,TAKING LEAVE OF HER FAMILY. Where goest thou? Who ...
It was the morning; through the shutters closed, Along the balcony, the earliest rays Of sunlight my dark room were ...
Children of Fate, in the same breath Created were they, Love and Death. Such fair creations ne'er were seen, Or ...
At times thy image to my mind returns, Aspasia. In the crowded streets it gleams Upon me, for an instant, ...
OR OF THE FABLES OF THE ANCIENTS. Now that the sun the faded charms Of heaven again restores, And gentle ...
As, in the lonely night, Above the silvered fields and streams Where zephyr gently blows, And myriad objects vague, Illusions, ...
CARVED ON HER MONUMENT. Such _wast_ thou: now in earth below, Dust and a skeleton thou art. Above thy bones ...
O Sylvia, dost thou remember still That period of thy mortal life, When beauty so bewildering Shone in thy laughing, ...
The night is mild and clear, and without wind, And o'er the roofs, and o'er the gardens round The moon ...
The damsel from the field returns, The sun is sinking in the west; Her bundle on her head she sets, ...
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