Deh qual pietà, qual angel fu sí presto
a portar sopra 'l cielo il mio cordoglio?
Ch'anchor sento tornar pur come soglio
madonna in quel suo atto dolce honesto
ad acquetare il cor misero et mesto,
piena sí d'umiltà, vòta d'orgoglio,
e 'nsomma tal ch'a morte i' mi ritoglio,
et vivo, e 'l viver piú non m'è molesto.
Beata s'è, che pò beare altrui
co la sua vista, over co le parole,
intellecte da noi soli ambedui:
- Fedel mio caro, assai di te mi dole,
ma pur per nostro ben dura ti fui, -
dice, et cos'altre d'arrestare il sole.
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Ah what mercy, what angel was so swift
to carry my grief to the heavens? I feel
my lady turn to me still, as before,
in that sweet chaste way of hers,
so filled with humility, empty of pride,
to ease my wretched and gloomy heart,
so that in short I turn away from death,
and live, and living no longer hurts me.
Blessed be her who can bless others
with sight of her, more so with words,
understood by the two of us alone:
'My faithful friend, I grieve with you,
but I was harsh only for our own good.'
this she said, and other things to halt the sun.
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