For her I conquered my homeland And in the forges of love and longing I saw my addiction melt into a furno!
Like the perfume that exudes at night From the shore of the lagoon the mimosa flower Will delight the traveler that the mist Disorientates from the extensive meadow They came to soften her memories The dark sadness of my soul:
From plague to plague like the Hebrew rnalditi I took refuge in vain, seeking from the soul To expel the grief that gnawed at me! I begged relief from the sky of Italy; at night

I fell asleep on the slopes of Vesuvius in the perfuming waves of Sarrento, And visited lucid places Where Laura and Petrarch sighed. But it was pack in. neither the bright sky, nor the sweet smile, — the fiery gaze of the beautiful Italian woman, nor the songs, nor the noisy feasts of Venice, Sanar could bring the sorrow from my breast, and the poignant pain that went deep into the blonde soul of
Greece I directed my steps, I fell asleep in the shadow of these ruins Where shrouded in his cloak of disbelief Lord Byron roamed. I opened my chest To the divine voices of ancient ages,
And in the breath of the I heard the cry of the rafts At my invocation; I went to the echoes to ask That there happily Sappho would repeat In the arms of Fame; and yet
breezes that passed millions of flowering gods rose from Tempe to the valley the sweet songs

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