I
| O joyous, blossoming, ever-blessed flowers! ’Mid which my pensive queen her footstep sets; O plain, that hold’st her words for amulets And keep’st her footsteps in thy leafy bowers! O trees, with earliest green of springtime hours, And all spring’s pale and tender violets! O grove, so dark the proud sun only lets His blithe rays gild the outskirts of thy towers! O pleasant country-side! O limpid stream, That mirrorest her sweet face, her eyes so clear, And of their living light canst catch the beam! I envy thee her presence pure and dear. There is no rock so senseless but I deem It burns with passion that to mine is near. |
II
| Quando Amor i begli occhi a terra inchina E i vaghi spirti in un sospiro accoglie Con le sue mani, e poi in voce gli scioglie Chiara, soave, angelica, divina; Sento far del mio cor dolce rapina, E sì dentro cangiar pensieri e voglie, Ch’i’ dico: or fien di me l’ultime spoglie, Se ’l Ciel sì onesta 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. Così mi vivo, e così avvolge e spiega Lo stame della vita che m’è data, Questa sola fra noi del ciel sirena. |
II
| When Love doth those sweet eyes to earth incline, And weaves those wandering notes into a sigh With his own touch, and leads a minstrelsy Clear-voiced and pure, angelic and divine,— He makes sweet havoc in this heart of mine, And to my thoughts brings transformation high, So that I say, “My time has come to die, If fate so blest a death for me design.” But to my soul, thus steeped in joy, the sound Brings such a wish to keep that present heaven, It holds my spirit back to earth as well. And thus I live: and thus is loosed and wound The thread of life which unto me was given By this sole Siren who with us doth dwell. |