O graceful moon, I can remember, now the year has turned, how, filled with anguish, I came here to this hill to gaze at you, and you were hanging then above those woods the way you do now, lighting everything. But your face was cloudy, swimming in my eyes, due to the tears that filled them, for my life was torment, and it is, it doesn’t change, beloved moon of mine. And yet it helps me, thinking back, reliving the time of my unhappiness. Oh in youth, when hope has a long road ahead and the way of memory is short, how sweet it is remembering what happened, though it was sad, and though the pain endures!
― Giacomo Leopardi
Will you listen to them?