He went pale one evening, and his voice was trembling as he tried to explain it again; his eyes were burning as though he were suffering, yet they inflicted on me such a pain; at his most tender, afire with a flame …Which was never, ever to die, the truth struck my soul and I drowned in the shame; …He wasn’t in love, it was I!
Quand’egli impallidì una sera, e la voce tremante sul nascere di un suono… si spense all’improvviso; quando i suoi occhi alzando la palpebra bruciante mi presero d’un male da cui lo pensai preso; quando i suoi tratti più struggenti, ardore d’un fuoco che non può mai declinare mi s’ impressero vivi in fondo al cuore, lui non amava: ero io ad amare.
