To Himself

“Now you’ll rest forever

My weary heart. The last illusion died

I thought eternal. Died. I feel, in truth,

Not only hope, but desire

For dear illusion has vanished.

Rest forever. You’ve laboured

Enough. Not a single thing is worth

Your beating. The earth’s not worthy

Of your sighs. Bitter and tedious,

Life is, nothing more: and the world is mud.

Be silent now. Despair

For the last time. To our race Fate

Gave only death. Now scorn Nature,

That brute force

That secretly governs the common hurt,

And the infinite emptiness of all.”

–  Giacomo Leopardi, The Canti, To Himself (XXVIII)


One response to “To Himself

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