lamento della ninfa monteverdi

Phoebus had not yet brought daylight to the world when a damsel came out of her dwelling. Her suffering was plain on her face, and frequently she let great sighs loose from her heart. Thus trampling the flowers, she wandered here and there, and her lost love she thus wept: “Love,“ she said, stopping to look at the heavens, “where, where is the faith that the traitor swore to me? Let my love return as he was, or else kill me, so that I may no longer torment myself.“ Poor wretch, alas, nol longer can she suffer such scorn. “I don’t want him to sigh except away from me, I no longer want him to confide his sufferings in me. Because I suffer for him, he is proud; will he beseech me if I flee from him? She may have a more serene brow than mine, but even Love’s breast does not harbor such beautiful constancy. Never will he have such sweet kisses from that mouth, nor softer - be still, be still, that he knows all too well. Thus among scornful weeping she scattered