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Anonymous translation
ONCE more among the old gigantic hills | |
| With vapors clouded o’er; | |
| The vales of Lombardy grow dim behind, | |
| The rocks ascend before. | |
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| They beckon me, the giants, from afar, | 5 |
| They wing my footsteps on; | |
| Their helms of ice, their plumage of the pine, | |
| Their cuirasses of stone. | |
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| My heart beats high, my breath comes freer forth,— | |
| Why should my heart be sore? | 10 |
| I hear the eagle and the vulture’s cry, | |
| The nightingale’s no more. | |
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| Where is the laurel, where the myrtle’s blossom? | |
| Bleak is the path around: | |
| Where from the thicket comes the ringdove’s cooing? | 15 |
| Hoarse is the torrent’s sound. | |
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| Yet should I grieve, when from my loaded bosom | |
| A weight appears to flow? | |
| Methinks the Muses come to call me home | |
| From yonder rocks of snow. | 20 |
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| I know not how, but in yon land of roses | |
| My heart was heavy still, | |
| I startled at the warbling nightingale, | |
| The zephyr on the hill. | |
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| They said the stars shone with a softer gleam,— | 25 |
| It seemed not so to me; | |
| In vain a scene of beauty beamed around, | |
| My thoughts were o’er the sea. | |
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