The Silkworm.
D' altrui pietoso. Kind to the world, but to itself unkind, A worm is born, that dying noiselessly Despoils itself to clothe fair limbs, and be In its true worth by death alone divined. Oh, would that I might die, for her to find Raiment in my outworn mortality! That, changing like the snake, I might be free To cast the slough wherein I dwell confined! Nay, were it mine, that shaggy fleece that stays, Woven and wrought into a vestment fair, Around her beauteous bosom in such bliss! All through the day she'd clasp me! Would I were The shoes that bear her burden! When the ways Were wet with rain, her feet I then should kiss!
AI analysis available. Enable JavaScript to interact.
About this line
"D' altrui pietoso...."
Michelangelo di Lodovico Buonarroti Simoni's contribution to classic is further solidified by the brilliance found in "The Silkworm."... ### Why We Love This Line At Linespedia, we believe that poetry is the ultimate sanctuary for the soul...