Passages
Reading worthwhile literature one month at a time
Saturday, November 12, 2011
Giacomo Leopardi
How sad, how wretched
is my own complaining.
Unrequited love, lost opportunity
pours bitterness into my heart.
Sparrow, moon, and young maid sewing
these I watch with joy.
From these views of peace I turn
into my own despair.
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