L'oro et le perle e i fior' vermigli e i bianchi,
che 'l verno devria far languidi et secchi,
son per me acerbi et velenosi stecchi,
ch'io provo per lo petto et per li fianchi.
Però i dí miei fien lagrimosi et manchi,
ché gran duol rade volte aven che 'nvecchi:
ma piú ne colpo i micidiali specchi,
che 'n vagheggiar voi stessa avete stanchi.
Questi poser silentio al signor mio,
che per me vi pregava, ond'ei si tacque,
veggendo in voi finir vostro desio;
questi fuor fabbricati sopra l'acque
d'abisso, et tinti ne l'eterno oblio,
onde 'l principio de mia morte nacque.
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The gold and pearls and flowers, crimson and white,
that winter should have made dry and withered,
are cruel and venomous thorns to me,
that sting me fiercely in the chest and side.
So my life will be tearful and short,
since great grief rarely withers or grows old:
but I blame those fatal mirrors more,
that you have wearied gazing at yourself.
They imposed their silence on my lord,
who prayed to you for me, so he was mute,
seeing you sate your passion with yourself:
they were created beneath the watery
depths, and tinted with eternal oblivion,
where the cause of my death was born.
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