Classic Poem

ON THE DEATH OF HIS FRIEND SENNUCCIO

O my Sennuccio! Still I can console
My dolorous solitude, though I stand bereft,
Since, from the body's prison which you left,
You glide on such proud wings to reach your goal.
Now at one sweep you compass either pole,
The stars in their bright orbits, our sight cleft
In twain you see, our treasures forced by theft
Most dear... But your bliss must my grief control.
One grace, then! In the third and brilliant sphere
Salute Guittone! Cino and Dante hail!
Dear Franceschino and all the other dear!
And tell my Lady how I weep and wail
And live like some wild beast and feel her near,
And how her eyes and pure hands never fail!