Verse > Anthologies > Andrew Macphail, ed. > The Book of Sorrow
Andrew Macphail, comp.  The Book of Sorrow.  1916.
XXIV. Bitter Sorrow
‘Why sighest thou?’
By Cino da Pistoia (1270–1336?)
Translated by Warburton Pike

‘WHY sighest thou?’ Ah! ask not why;
  But late the tidings I have known,
  And all my wishes shattered lie:
  She whom I love, from earth has flown,
And I am left behind, to sigh,        5
  To see her ne’er, to live alone:
  My sad life ending, death draws nigh;
  That, now to me, my heart has shown.
My eyes have lost their only light;
  On ladies they henceforth no more        10
  Can gaze, their one poor joy the sight
Of that dear house, that well-known door,
  Where they went oft, ere came the night
  To her, for whom my tears now pour.

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