Zephiro torna, e 'l bel tempo rimena,
e i fiori et l'erbe, sua dolce famiglia,
et garrir Progne et pianger Philomena,
et primavera candida et vermiglia.
Ridono i prati, e 'l ciel si rasserena;
Giove s'allegra di mirar sua figlia;
l'aria et l'acqua et la terra è d'amor piena;
ogni animal d'amar si riconsiglia.
Ma per me, lasso, tornano i piú gravi
sospiri, che del cor profondo tragge
quella ch'al ciel se ne portò le chiavi;
et cantar augelletti, et fiorir piagge,
e 'n belle donne honeste atti soavi
sono un deserto, et fere aspre et selvagge.
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Zephyr returns and brings fair weather,
and the flowers and herbs, his sweet family,
and Procne singing and Philomela weeping,
and the white springtime, and the vermilion.
The meadows smile, and the skies grow clear:
Jupiter is joyful, gazing at his daughter:
the air and earth and water are filled with love:
every animal is reconciled to loving.
But to me, alas, there return the heaviest
sighs that she draws from the deepest heart,
who took the keys of it away to heaven:
and the song of little birds, and the flowering fields,
and the sweet, virtuous actions of women
are a wasteland to me, of bitter and savage creatures.
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