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Hor che Apollo è a Teti in seno
Original Language: Italian
Hor che Apollo è a Teti in seno
E il mio sol sta in grembo al sonno,
Hor ch'a lui pensand'io peno,
Né posar gl'occhi miei ponno,
A questo albergo per sfogar il duolo
Vengo piangente, innamorato e solo.
Sì, Filli, questo core
Che per amor si more,
A te vien supplicante
De' tuoi bei lumi amante.
Mira al pie' tante catene,
Lucidissima mia stella,
E se duolti ch'io stia in pene
Sii men cruda o pur men bella.
Se men cruda, pietade
Havrò del mio servir, saprò che m'ami;
E se men bella, io frangerò i legami.
Vedi al core quante spine
Tu mi dai, vermiglia rosa,
E se sdegni mie rovine,
Sii men fiera o men vezzosa.
Ma isfogatevi,
Spriggionatevi,
Miei sospir, s'io già comprendo
Che di me ride Filli anco dormendo.
Ride de' miei lamenti
Certo questa crudele,
E sprezza i preghi miei, le mie querele.
Deggio per ciò partir senza conforto:
Se vivo non mi vuoi, mi vedrai morto.
Mentre altrove il pie' s'invia,
Io ti lascio in dolce oblio;
Parto, Filli, anima mia,
Questo sia l'ultimo a Dio.
English
Now that Apollo
Now that Apollo rests on the breast of Thetis
and my sun is in the arms of sleep,
now that I'm suffering thinking of her
and my eyes can find no rest,
I come to this refuge to relieve my pain,
in tears, in love, and alone.
Yes, Filli, this heart
that is dying of love
comes imploringly to you,
in love with your beautiful eyes.
See all the chains holding me down,
my luminous star,
and if it grieves you to see me suffer,
be less cruel or at least less beautiful.
If you're less cruel, you'll take pity
on my servitude, and I'll know that you love me;
if you were less beautiful, I could break my chains.
Red rose, look at how
you pierce my heart with many thorns,
and if you're indifferent to my distress,
be less ruthless or less enchanting.
But express yourselves,
unbind yourselves,
my sighs, for now I understand that
Filli scorns me even when she's asleep.
In truth that cruel one
ridicules my lamenting,
and disdains my pleading, my mourning.
Thus I must depart without consolation:
If you don't want me alive, you'll see me dead.
As I go elsewhere
I leave you in sweet oblivion;
I'm leaving, Filli, my soul,
let this be my last farewell.
Translated by:
Richard Kolb
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Hor che Apollo
Published by Cor Donato Editions in historically correct modern transcription, including critical introductory notes on the work, editorial procedures, original texts with new English translations, and other contextual information about the piece.
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