European Elegies/Autumn (1)/A little dust
10.A LITTLE DUST
The eyes that stirred my passioned eloquence,
The arms that held me fast, the hallowed face
That made my heart ecstatic by its grace
And walled me round with dream's circumference,
The golden ringlets' soft munificence,
And the angelic lips whose laugh could raise
The joy of paradise in this poor place
Are but a little dust, forlorn of sense.
I linger on; despising life, I lie
Without the light that once made day so fair
And by withdrawal darkens every sky.
My songs of love are mute: in this chill air
My veins of poesy grow void and dry,
My numb hand harps the discords of despair.
The arms that held me fast, the hallowed face
That made my heart ecstatic by its grace
And walled me round with dream's circumference,
The golden ringlets' soft munificence,
And the angelic lips whose laugh could raise
The joy of paradise in this poor place
Are but a little dust, forlorn of sense.
I linger on; despising life, I lie
Without the light that once made day so fair
And by withdrawal darkens every sky.
My songs of love are mute: in this chill air
My veins of poesy grow void and dry,
My numb hand harps the discords of despair.
From the Italian of Francesco Petrarca.