Perhaps because of the fatal quiet you're the imago
come to me so dear, or evening! And when you Corteggiani happy
the summer clouds and calm breezes,
and when air from the snowy darkness, and long restless
universe phenomena
always relied come down, and the secret ways
gently hold of my heart.
Vagar make me co 'my thoughts about the tracks that go
anything ever, and while fleeing
this time offender, and the van with him hordes
care so he destroys me, and while I look at
your peace, sleeping
who enter the warrior spirit groans.
sonnet written in 1803
Ugo Foscolo (Zakynthos, February 6, 1778 - London, September 10, 1827)
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