Count Giacomo Leopardi

(29 June 1798 – 14 June 1837 / Rencanati)

Count Giacomo Leopardi Poems

1. To A Victor In A Game Of Pallone 4/10/2010
2. To Angelo Mai, 4/10/2010
3. To Count Carlo Pepoli 4/10/2010
4. The Resurrection 4/10/2010
5. Younger Brutus 3/23/2012
6. The Younger Brutus 4/10/2010
7. To His Sister Paolina, 4/10/2010
8. To The Beloved 4/10/2010
9. To Italy (1818) 4/10/2010
10. The Ruling Thought 4/10/2010
11. To The Spring 4/10/2010
12. To Himself 4/10/2010
13. The Village Saturday Night 4/10/2010
14. The Setting Of The Moon 4/10/2010
15. Fragment I 4/10/2010
16. Hymn To The Patriarchs 4/10/2010
17. On An Old Sepuchral Bas-Relief 4/10/2010
18. Palinodia 4/10/2010
19. To The Moon 4/10/2010
20. To Sylvia 4/10/2010
21. Consalvo 4/10/2010
22. Recollections 4/10/2010
23. Aspasia 4/10/2010
24. Scherzo 4/10/2010
25. Fragment Ii 4/10/2010
26. Imitation 4/10/2010
27. On Dante's Monument, 1818 4/10/2010
28. The Evening Of The Holiday 4/10/2010
29. The Lonely Sparrow 4/10/2010
30. The Ginestra, 4/10/2010
31. Chorus Of The Dead 4/10/2010
32. The Dream 4/10/2010
33. Love And Death 4/10/2010
34. On The Portrait Of A Beautiful Woman, 4/10/2010
35. The Last Song Of Sappho 4/10/2010
36. First Love 4/10/2010
37. The Lonely Life 4/10/2010
38. Calm After Storm 4/10/2010
39. L'Infinito 1/1/2004
40. Night Song Of A Wandering Shepherd In Asia 4/10/2010
Best Poem of Count Giacomo Leopardi

The Infinite

This solitary hill has always been dear to me
And this hedge, which prevents me from seeing most of
The endless horizon.
But when I sit and gaze, I imagine, in my thoughts
Endless spaces beyond the hedge,
An all encompassing silence and a deeply profound quiet,
To the point that my heart is almost overwhelmed.
And when I hear the wind rustling through the trees
I compare its voice to the infinite silence.
And eternity occurs to me, and all the ages past,
And the present time, and its sound.
Amidst this immensity my thought drowns:
And to founder in this sea ...

Read the full of The Infinite

Aspasia

At times thy image to my mind returns,
Aspasia. In the crowded streets it gleams
Upon me, for an instant, as I pass,
In other faces; or in lonely fields,
At noon-tide bright, beneath the silent stars,
With sudden and with startling vividness,
As if awakened by sweet harmony,
The splendid vision rises in my soul.
How worshipped once, ye gods, what a delight

[Hata Bildir]