Now we flee even from the shadow of loving beauties; partly terrified of our own heart, and partly fearful of fate.
The poet speaks with the tired wisdom of someone so thoroughly bruised by love that he now flees from its mere shadow. His fear comes from two sides: on one hand, he distrusts his own impulsive heart, which is all too ready to fall again, and on the other, he dreads the sky—a classic metaphor for a cruel and mocking fate. It captures that relatable hesitation when past heartbreak makes you fear both your own feelings and the world outside.
Interpretation note: meanings and explanations may be AI-assisted and should not replace a primary text or scholarly edition. See the editorial policy.
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