( " COSA SIA " )

Whatever sin there be, whatever grief —
The blight of honor, the deceits of love,
The mind imprisoned beating at its bars,
Crime the most sordid, Vice with Virtue's mask —
These come not near me. Mine a deeper woe:
A mother childless though her child still lives.
And you have told my secret to the world.

Where is the love, the loyalty, the care,
The arm I thought to lean on, the sure hope
Pledged in the cradle to my yearning Age?
How have I failed and forfeited my dream?
How gathered thistles from the seed of figs
That promised sweetness, shelter and repose?
I am the actress: you reveal the truth.
You call to the Madonna: I to you.
The tears you weep are mine: I weep no more.

Oh, sister of my sorrow, while the throng
Acclaim, forgive me that my hands are dumb.
Backward across the chasm of empty years
I gaze and bless you for your gift divine —
The solace of an understanding soul.