Tristitia (English translation)
My childhood, which was sweet, calm, sad and alone,
slid on the peace of a remote village,
between the tame rumor with which a wave dies
and the painful ringing of an old bell.
The sea gave me the note of its melancholy;
the sky, the calm stillness of its beauty;
my mothers kisses, a sweet joy,
and the death of the sun, a vague sadness.
In the blue morning, on waking, I felt
the singing of the waves like a melody
and then the dense, scented blow of the sea,
and what it told me, still in my sould persists;
my father was quiet and my mother was sad
and no one knew how to teach me joy
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