In Others' Words

Lots of people post song lyrics on their blogs. Today, I offer you translations of two 17th-century Italian song lyrics from a lovely recital I played in last night.

They spoke to a nostalgia and infusion of memories that I've been feeling lately.

Lagrimosa Beltà

Tearful beauty
for whom I longed for so many nights with sighing,
how have you so become?

Who was that savage?
Whose heart, full of contempt,
could have proved harsh against you?

Misery, I know well, and you cannot deny it.
Time, the age of great worth,
has calmed the breast
has silvered the gold of thy beautiful hair.

Lady, see the end approaching,
see that everything is mortal and fades.
In time beauty becomes worthless,
it is the common blow that none may parry.

The rain comes after the calm
and after the lightening bolt, grim thunder;
who is cruel does not merit pardon,
to be faithless to love is a vile outrage.

To such a vision, Ladies, render up your hearts.
With piety and humility,
learn to leave that sumptuous pride and
soften thy thoughts.

Beauty displays its splendor not in such as she,
nor ever did.
Then let she who would have lasting beauty
avail herself of pity.

Amanti, io vi sò dire

Lovers, I can tell you
that it is much better to flee
from a pretty woman:
whether she is cruel or merciful,
whatever the situation,
to die for love is madness.

You need not think
of finding joy in love,
the happiness of love
is a thing of the moment,
and after all a beautiful woman
never bestows roses without thorns.

The hope of enjoyment is based on suffering,
beauty and courtesy
do not go hand in hand,
I can say, to my misfortune,
that love goes together with death.

It would take floods of tears to put out the volcanoes
of a heart in love,
of a soul that is inflamed . . .
Before it reaches shelter,
how often it says: Alas, I am dead!

Believe in one
who can say from experience: I saw, I was:
If you won't believe,
let it be,
it matters little to me,
carry on loving.
In any case,
those who must break their necks
will not escape steep slopes or deep falls.
As the wise proverb always says:
You cannot escape your destiny.

My lady, I know who you are,
Cupid, I know what I am doing,
I'll have nothing more to do with you,
keep your distance, both of you!
If everyone were like myself,
Cupid would be a fool, and not a god.