Petrarch, Familiar Letters 24.12.2
Iamque michi sensim spes abierat; preter enim aliquot tuorum principia librorum, in quibus uelut exoptati amici supercilium procul ambiguum et raptim uibrans seu fluctuantis come apicem intuebar, latini nichilo obtigerat, nichil denique sperabatur ubi te cominus contemplarer…
Already I had gradually given up all hope because, aside from some opening lines of your books – in which I glimpsed your flashing brow faintly in the distance, or your streaming hair, like a longed-for friend – there was nothing available in Latin, and I had no hope of seeing you at close quarters…
Relevant guides | Embodiments of Literature |
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