Verse > Anthologies > Andrew Macphail, ed. > The Book of Sorrow
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Andrew Macphail, comp.  The Book of Sorrow.  1916.
 
XXIV. Bitter Sorrow
‘Why sighest thou?’
By Cino da Pistoia (1270–1336?)
 
Translated by Warburton Pike

‘WHY sighest thou?’ Ah! ask not why;
  But late the tidings I have known,
  And all my wishes shattered lie:
  She whom I love, from earth has flown,
And I am left behind, to sigh,        5
  To see her ne’er, to live alone:
  My sad life ending, death draws nigh;
  That, now to me, my heart has shown.
My eyes have lost their only light;
  On ladies they henceforth no more        10
  Can gaze, their one poor joy the sight
Of that dear house, that well-known door,
  Where they went oft, ere came the night
  To her, for whom my tears now pour.
 
 
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