The Infinite

  • ΘΘΘ

    The Infinite

    Giacomo Leopardi.

  • It’s always dear to me, this lonely hill,
    And this hedgerow that happens to obscure
    The whole vista of the far horizon.
    But sitting here and watching, through the endless
    Spaces beyond, and the unnatural
    Quiet and stillness all around me,
    I lose myself in my thoughts, and my heart
    Almost misses a beat. A breeze rustles
    The branches. When I hear it and compare
    The sound of that lonely voice to the vast
    Surroundings of silence, then I remember
    The eternal, the dead seasons, the living
    Moment and the murmur it makes, until
    My thoughts are drowned out by infinity:
    And how sweet it is to be shipwrecked like this.


Translated from the Italian by Peter Jukes


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