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O night to me more splendid and more blessed
Than the most blessed and most splendid of days,
Night worthy of the most exalted praise,
Not just of mine, unworthy and distressed,
You alone have been the faithful giver
Of all my joys; you've made the bitter taste
Of this life sweet and dear, for you've replaced
Within my arms the one who's bound me ever.
I just regret that I did not become
Lucky Alemena then, for whom the dawn
Postponed, against all custom, its returning,
But I can never say such good has come
From you, clear night, for even now my song
Cannot subdue the matter of its yearning.
Gaspara Stampa
Read poems about / on: song, alone, night, life, joy
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Gaspara Stampa
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