Tears are the silent language of grief

Tears are the silent language of grief

Oh, well has it been said, that there is no grief like the grief
which does not speak!

Oh, well has it been said, that there is no grief like the grief
which does not speak!

Were floods of tears to be unloosed
In tribute to my grief,
The doves of Noah ne'er read more

Were floods of tears to be unloosed
In tribute to my grief,
The doves of Noah ne'er had roost
Nor found an olive-leaf.

Tearless grief bleeds inwardly.

Tearless grief bleeds inwardly.

In all the silent manliness of grief.

In all the silent manliness of grief.

If our inward griefs were seen written on our brow, how many
would be pitied who are now envied!
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If our inward griefs were seen written on our brow, how many
would be pitied who are now envied!
[It., Se a ciascun l'interno affanno
Si leggesse in fronte scritto,
Quanti mai, che invidia fanno,
Ci farebbero pieta!]

Grief tears his heart, and drives him to and fro,
In all the raging impotence of woe.

Grief tears his heart, and drives him to and fro,
In all the raging impotence of woe.

There is no grief like the grief that does not speak

There is no grief like the grief that does not speak

Those things that hurt, instruct.

Those things that hurt, instruct.