Love, that in gentle heart is quickly learnt,
entangled him by that fair form, from me
ta’en in such cruel sort, as grieves me still:
Love, that denial takes from none beloved,
caught me with pleasing him so passing well,
that, as thou seest, he yet deserts me not.
Love brought us to one death: Caïna waits
the soul, who spilt our life.
Amor, ch’ al cor gentil ratto s’apprende,
prese costui de la bella persona
che mi fu tolta; e ‘l modo ancor m’offende.
Amor, ch’ a nullo amato amar perdona,
mi prese del costui piacer si’ forte,
che, come vedi, ancor non m’abbandona.
Amor condusse noi ad una morte:
Caina attende chi a vita ci spense.
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