Tristia
M
Mihaela Pirjol
0
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Consolation, —in my enduring memory,
When bitter is the savour of tristia;
Amorous bliss remains as treasury
When too comprised in melancholia.
Incantation in nostalgic melodies,
Tremors and sighs, longing, sufferance:
All—old perfume rare, and fine—my remedies
For aching wounds; fated sad romance...
Suffice to me to think of our love, beloved,
Nurtured profoundly, safe in our hearts;
Thus we live through them again, my love—
This life unfair, did not us part!
Bu şiiri puanla
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