Non fur ma' Giove et Cesare sí mossi,
a folminar collui, questo a ferire,
che Pietà non avesse spente l'ire,
e lor de l'usate arme ambeduo scossi.
Piangea madonna, e 'l mio signor ch'i' fossi
volse a vederla, et i suoi lamenti a udire,
per colmarmi di doglia et di desire,
et ricercarmi le medolle et gli ossi.
Quel dolce pianto mi depinse Amore,
anzi scolpío, et que' detti soavi
mi scrisse entro un diamante in mezzo 'l core;
ove con salde ed ingegnose chiavi
ancor torna sovente a trarne fore
lagrime rare et sospir' lunghi et gravi.
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Jupiter and Caesar were never so moved,
the one to thunder, the other to war,
that Pity would not have quenched their anger,
and made them both lay down their weapons.
My lady wept: my lord wished me to go
and look on her, and hear her lament,
filling me with sadness and desire,
searching my very bones to the marrow.
Love painted that sweet weeping for me,
or sculpted it rather, engraved her gentle words
on a diamond at the centre of my heart:
where with his strong and ingenious keys
he often returns still to unlock
rare tears, and long and heavy sighs.
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