As you might see in the sky a radiant burst of light
Slip away subtly or lose itself in a cloud,
So this fortunate holy soul, unknown to mortals,
Slipped from a young heart to fly to heaven.

My thoughts follow her, though my eyes cannot,
Right to the vault of heaven, bright and clear for her coming,
And see that, though she is kept in such glory,
She grieves that I am still in this lowly place.

But you will hardly need to wait for me there, my goddess,
For I had only stayed to collect up your ashes
And embellish your holy memory as I should;

Now that I've carried out this pitiful task,
Tired of weeping, of living, and of being wretched,
I abandon the earth and fly to be beside you.