O Del Mio Amato Ben It's an Italian AriaOh, lost enchantment of my dearly beloved!Far from my eyes is hewho was, to me, glory and pride!Now through the empty roomsI always seek him and call himwith a heart full of hopes?But I seek in vain, I call in vain!And the weeping is so dear to me,that with weeping alone I nourish my heart.It seems to me, without him, sad everywhere.The day seems like night to me;the fire seems cold to me.If, however, I sometimes hopeto give myself to another cure,one thought alone torments me:But without him, what shall I do?To me, life seems a vain thingwithout my beloved.
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