Francesca da Rimini

DANTE

When I made answer, I began: ‘Alas!
?How many sweet thoughts and how much desire
Led these two onward to the dolorous pass!’
?Then turned to them, as who would fain inquire,
And said: ‘Francesca, these thine agonies
?Wring tears for pity and grief that they inspire:
But tell me,—in the season of sweet sighs,
?When and what way did Love instruct you so
That he in your vague longings made you wise?’
?Then she to me: ‘There is no greater woe
Than the remembrance brings of happy days
?In misery; and this thy guide doth know.
But if the first beginnings to retrace
?Of our sad love can yield thee solace here,
So will I be as one that weeps and says.
?One day we read, for pastime and sweet cheer,
Of Lancelot, how he found Love tyrannous:
?We were alone and without any fear.
Our eyes were drawn together, reading thus,
?Full oft, and still our cheeks would pale and glow;
But one sole point it was that conquered us.
?For when we read of that great lover, how
He kissed the smile which he had longed to win,—
?Then he whom nought can sever from me now
For ever, kissed my mouth, all quivering.
?A Galahalt was the book, and he that writ:
Upon that day we read no more therein.’
?At the tale told, while one soul uttered it,
The other wept: a pang so pitiable
?That I was seized, like death, in swooning-fit,
And even as a dead body falls, I fell.
Translation: 
Language: 
Author of original: 
Dante Alighieri
Rate this poem: 

Reviews

No reviews yet.