Voglio, voglio morire, chcę chcę umrzeć
piuttosto ch'il mio mal venga a scoprire.
Oh, disgrazia fatale !
Quanto più miran gl'occhi il suo bel volto
più tien la bocca il mio desir sepolto;
chi rimedio non ha taccia il suo male.
Non resti di mirar chi non ha sorte,
né può da sì bel ciel venir la morte.
La bella donna mia sovente miro
ed ella a me volge pietoso il guardo,
quasi che voglia dire:
"Palesa il tuo martire"
ché ben s'accorge che mi struggo e ardo.
Ma io voglio morire ale raczej chcę umrzeć
piuttosto ch'il mio mal venga a scoprire.
L'erbetta, ch'al cader di fredda brina
languida il capo inchina,
all'apparir del sole
lieta verdeggia più di quel che suole:
tal io, s'alcun timor mi gela il core,
all'apparir di lei prendo vigore.
Ma io voglio morire ale raczej chcę umrzeć
piuttosto ch'il mio mal venga a scoprire.
Deh, getta l'arco poderoso e l'armi,
Amor, e lascia omai di saettarmi !
Se non per amor mio
fallo per onor tuo, superbo dio,
perché gloria non è d'un guerrier forte
uccider un che sta vicino a morte.
("parole d'incerto") słowa niepewne
THE SECRET LOVER
I just want to die,
rather than let my weakness be discovered.
och, nieuniknione nieszczęście ! Oh, inevitable misfortune !
The more my eyes gaze on that beautiful face
the more my mouth will hold my desire entombed;
one who has no remedy stays silent about his pains;
one who has no luck can only look,
accepting his death coming from such a heaven.
I often look at my beloved
who returns a pitying look,
as if she would say,
"Disclose your torment,"
for she is well aware that I am consumed with passion.
But I would rather die
than let my pain be discovered.
The tender grasses which bow their languishing heads
with the fall of the cold frost,
then when the sun appears
they happily revive from the soil;
just as I, when fear freezes my heart,
become revived when I see her.
But I would rather die
than have my hurt be revealed.
Cupid, throw down your mighty bow and weapons,
and finally stop shooting at me !
If not for the love of me,
then do it for your own honor, great god,
because there is no glory for a mighty warrior
to kill one who is already so close to death.
I just want to die,
rather than let my weakness be discovered.
och, nieuniknione nieszczęście ! Oh, inevitable misfortune !
The more my eyes gaze on that beautiful face
the more my mouth will hold my desire entombed;
one who has no remedy stays silent about his pains;
one who has no luck can only look,
accepting his death coming from such a heaven.
I often look at my beloved
who returns a pitying look,
as if she would say,
"Disclose your torment,"
for she is well aware that I am consumed with passion.
But I would rather die
than let my pain be discovered.
The tender grasses which bow their languishing heads
with the fall of the cold frost,
then when the sun appears
they happily revive from the soil;
just as I, when fear freezes my heart,
become revived when I see her.
But I would rather die
than have my hurt be revealed.
Cupid, throw down your mighty bow and weapons,
and finally stop shooting at me !
If not for the love of me,
then do it for your own honor, great god,
because there is no glory for a mighty warrior
to kill one who is already so close to death.
(translation Candace Magner)
mam szczęście
powiadasz
że mnie kochasz
mówisz
i znosisz
hm
do piwnicy cudów
I'm so lucky
sayest
that U love me
sayest
that U love me
sayest
and endure me
to the basement of miracles
uhm
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