There never was a shade for pity’s sake
As my idol awaits,
Languishing beneath ardent rushes
For the sound of love escapes
Through every cell, and every plant proclaims it.
Love knows, the gods know
Into blue hazy lands we travel hills and valleys
With our sighs that speak of our pain:
Love reaches for what love has concecrated.
From translations of Handel “Ombra Mai Fu” (“Never Was a Shade”), Vincenzo Bellini, “Per Pieta Bell’idol Mio” (“For Pity’s Sake”), and Beethoven’s, “Auf dem Hugel sitz Spahend” (“To The Distant Beloved”)