Quando Amor i belli occhi a terra inchina
e i vaghi spirti in un sospiro accoglie
co le sue mani, et poi in voce gli scioglie,
chiara, soave, angelica, divina,
sento far del mio cor dolce rapina,
et sí dentro cangiar penseri et voglie,
ch'i' dico: Or fien di me l'ultime spoglie,
se 'l ciel sí honesta morte mi destina.
Ma 'l suon che di dolcezza i sensi lega
col gran desir d'udendo esser beata
l'anima al dipartir presta raffrena.
Cosí mi vivo, et cosí avolge et spiega
lo stame de la vita che m'è data,
questa sola fra noi del ciel sirena.
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When Love inclines her lovely eyes to earth
and with his hand gathers her wandering breath
in a sigh, then looses it in a voice,
clear, gentle, angelic and divine,
I feel my heart sweetly stolen away,
and my thoughts and wishes changed within,
so that I say: 'These are the last spoils of me
if heaven intends me for so happy a death.'
But that sound that binds the senses with its sweetness
restrains the spirit from swiftly departing,
through a great desire to hear it, and be blessed.
So I live, and so she winds, unwinds
the thread of life that was granted me,
that sole Siren from heaven who's among us.
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