Treasure Island

Count Giacomo Leopardi

(29 June 1798 – 14 June 1837 / Rencanati)

Fragment I


I round the threshold wandering here,
Vainly the tempest and the rain invoke,
That they may keep my lady prisoner.

And yet the wind was howling in the woods,
The roving thunder bellowing in the clouds,
Before the dawn had risen in the sky.

O ye dear clouds! O heaven! O earth! O trees!
My lady goes! Have mercy, if on earth
Unhappy lovers ever mercy find!

Awake, ye whirlwinds! storm-charged clouds, awake,
O'erwhelm me with your floods, until the sun
To other lands brings back the light of day!

Heaven opens; the wind falls; the grass, the leaves
Are motionless, around; the dazzling sun
In my tear-laden eyes remorseless shines.

Submitted: Saturday, April 10, 2010

Do you like this poem?
0 person liked.
0 person did not like.

Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?

Comments about this poem (Fragment I by Count Giacomo Leopardi )

Enter the verification code :

There is no comment submitted by members..

Top Poems

  1. Phenomenal Woman
    Maya Angelou
  2. The Road Not Taken
    Robert Frost
  3. If You Forget Me
    Pablo Neruda
  4. Still I Rise
    Maya Angelou
  5. Dreams
    Langston Hughes
  6. Annabel Lee
    Edgar Allan Poe
  7. If
    Rudyard Kipling
  8. Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
    Robert Frost
  9. I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
    Maya Angelou
  10. A Dream Within A Dream
    Edgar Allan Poe

New Poems

  1. While Others Sleep, Richard Provencher
  2. Madness, Is It Poetry
  3. Hand of the All Goddess, Stephen Bishop
  4. It's good to be back home..., David Lessard
  5. Words & Thoughts On Pause, Richard Provencher
  6. Sleeping Summers Beauty, Doug Jones
  7. If William Carlos Williams Had Been Born.., W.B. Keckler
  8. When will heavens love ever decline us?, Mark Heathcote
  9. Winning Bee, Jayatissa Liyanage
  10. Is it Halloween tonight, Mark Heathcote

Poem of the Day

poet Alfred Lord Tennyson

It little profits that an idle king,
By this still hearth, among these barren crags,
Match'd with an aged wife, I mete and dole
Unequal laws unto a savage race,
...... Read complete »

   
[Hata Bildir]