208. ‘Rapido fiume che d’alpestra vena’

Rapid river flowing from the mountains,

rushing on from where you take your name,

carrying me downwards, night and day,

to where Love leads me, and you Nature alone,

run on ahead: neither sleep nor tiredness

can restrain your course: and before

you meet the sea, directly, look clearly

where the grass is greener, air more serene.

There you’ll see our sweet living sun

that adorns and flowers your eastern bank;

perhaps (why hope?) lingering in grief for me.

Kiss her feet, or her lovely white hands:

say, and by kissing explain these words:

‘The spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak.’