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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=359080" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Last Song of Sappho</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Thou tranquil night, and thou, O gentle ray<br>Of the declining moon; and thou, that o'er<br>The rock appearest, 'mid the silent grove,<br>The messenger of day; how dear ye were,<br>And how delightful to these eyes, while yet<br>Unknown the furies, and grim Fate! But now,<br>No gentle sight can soothe this wounded soul.<br>Then, only, can forgotten joy revive,<br>When through the air, and o'er the trembling fields<br>The raging south wind whirls its clouds of dust;<br>And when the car, the pondrous car of Jove,<br>Omnipotent, high-thundering o'er our heads,<br>A pathway cleaves athwart the dusky sky.<br>Then would I love with storm-charged clouds to fly<br>Along the cliffs, along the valleys deep,<br>The headlong flight of frightened flocks to watch,<br>Or hear, upon some swollen river's shore<br>The angry billows' loud, triumphant roar.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">How beautiful thou art, O heaven divine,<br>And thou, O dewy earth! Alas no part<br>Of all this beauty infinite, the gods<br>And cruel fate to wretched Sappho gave!<br>To thy proud realms, O Nature, I, a poor,<br>Unwelcome guest, rejected lover, come;<br>To all thy varied forms of loveliness,<br>My heart and eyes, a suppliant, lift in vain.<br>The sun-lit shore hath smiles no more for me,<br>Nor radiant morning light at heaven's gate;<br>The birds no longer greet me with their songs,<br>Nor whispering trees with gracious messages;<br>And where, beneath the bending willows' shade,<br>The limpid stream its bosom pure displays,<br>As I, with trembling and uncertain foot,<br>Oppressed with grief, upon its margin pause,<br>The dimpled waves recoil, as in disdain,<br>And urge their flight along the flowery plain.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">What fearful crime, what hideous excess<br>Have so defiled me, e'en before my birth,<br>That heaven and fortune frown upon me thus?<br>Wherein have I offended, as a child,<br>When we of evil deeds are ignorant,<br>That thus disfigured, of the bloom of youth<br>Bereft, my little thread of life has from<br>The spindle of the unrelenting Fate<br>Been drawn? Alas, incautious are thy words!<br>Mysterious counsels all events control,<br>And all, except our grief, is mystery.<br>Deserted children, we were born to weep;<br>But why, is known to those above, alone.<br>O vain the cares, the hopes of earlier years!<br>To idle shows Jove gives eternal sway<br>O'er human hearts. Unless in shining robes arrayed,<br>All manly deeds in arms, or art, or song,<br>Appeal in vain unto the vulgar throng.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I die! This wretched veil to earth I cast,<br>And for my naked soul a refuge seek<br>Below, and for the cruel faults atone<br>Of gods, the blind dispensers of events.<br>And thou, to whom I have been bound so long,<br>By hopeless love, and lasting faith, and by<br>The frenzy vain of unappeased desire,<br>Live, live, and if thou canst, be happy here!<br>My cup o'erflows with bitterness, and Jove<br>Has from his vase no drop of sweetness shed,<br>For all my childhood's hopes and dreams have fled.<br>The happiest day the soonest fades away;<br>And then succeed disease, old age, the shade<br>Of icy death. Behold, alas! Of all<br>My longed-for laurels, my illusions dear,<br>The end,--the gulf of hell! My spirit proud<br>Must to the realm of Proserpine descend,<br>The Stygian shore, the night that knows no end.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Count+Giacomo+Leopardi">Count Giacomo Leopardi</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=359080" data-title="The Last Song of Sappho de Count Giacomo Leopardi" data-description="Thou tranquil night, and thou, O gentle ray
Of the declining moon; and thou, that o'er
The rock appearest, 'mid the silent grove,
The messenger of day; how dear ye were,
And how delightful to these eyes, while yet
Unknown the furies, and grim Fate..."></div>
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