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.
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