To the Moon

To the Moon 

By Giacomo Leopardi


I remember, gracious, graceful moon
When just a year ago, upon the hill
I came, filled with pain, to gaze at you
And you were hanging then above that woods
As you are now, and brightening everything.
Your face, however, then looked dim and trembling
To me, because I saw it through the tears
Rising to my eyes, my life was so
Unhappy, and still is, and doesn’t change
O my beloved moon. And yet it pleases me
This memory, and to feel again the time
Of my unhappiness. How good it is
In youthful years, when hope is still far-reaching
And memory does not go back so far
To go back to past things, even when those things
Are sad, and when the sadness has not ende

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