275. ‘Occhi mei, oscurato è ’l nostro sole:’

My eyes, that sun of ours is darkened:

or rather climbed to heaven, and shines there:

there I’ll see her again, there she waits,

and grieves perhaps that we’re so late.

My ears, her angelic words resound there,

where there are those who understand them better.

My feet, your power does not extend there,

where she is who set you in motion.

Then why do you fight this war with me?

Already every reason’s lost to you,

for seeing, hearing, walking the earth:

Blame Death: or rather give praise to Him

who binds and frees, opens and shuts again,

and, after the tears, makes known another joy.