Vago augelletto che cantando vai,
over piangendo, il tuo tempo passato,
vedendoti la notte e 'l verno a lato
e 'l dí dopo le spalle e i mesi gai,
se, come i tuoi gravosi affanni sai,
cosí sapessi il mio simile stato,
verresti in grembo a questo sconsolato
a partir seco i dolorosi guai.
I' non so se le parti sarian pari,
ché quella cui tu piangi è forse in vita,
di ch'a me Morte e 'l ciel son tanto avari;
ma la stagione et l'ora men gradita,
col membrar de' dolci anni et de li amari,
a parlar teco con pietà m'invita.
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Little wandering bird that goes singing
your time gone by, with weeping notes,
seeing the night and the winter near,
and the day and all the joyful months behind,
if, knowing your own heavy sorrows,
you could know of my state like your own,
you would fly to this disconsolate breast
to share your grievous sadness with me.
I cannot say our measures would be equal,
since perhaps the one you cry for still has life,
which in my case Death and heaven have denied:
but the fading season and the hour,
with the memory of sweet years and bitter,
invite me to speak to you, of pity.
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