Meeting Benches World art in all forms
ONCE AGAIN
Here again, the valley of hell, alpine river, steep mountains, spirits without any virtue, you will hear my cry and my eternal pain. Each mote I hear, every cave, wherever I stop me, wherever moving steps, because the lot, which is always changing and always increases my eternal evil. And while I lament day and night, wild animals, rocks, ravines and barren places, forests solitary, lonely caves, birds of prey and owls you, you hear our death, and weep with me in loud voices and interrupted my most miserable end of any other. From a high mountain where you see the sea, often look at, I, your daughter Isabella, if a ship appears on the horizon to bring me news of you, father! But my doom and painful does not want any comfort enter into my mind, but, thief of pity, transformed the relief in suffering. Because I do not see at sea or oars or sails (this is so deserted beach painful) that fendano waves or are inflated by the wind. Then I rant against fate and I hate this place as the only reason for my torment.
(Isabella di Morra)
http://www.amazon.com/Isabella-Morra-Canzoniere/dp/1884419186
