Era la notte, e presso di Colei
Che sola al cor mi giunse e vi sta sola,
Con quel pianger che rompe la parola,
Io pregava mercede a martir miei.

Quand’ Ella, chinando gli occhi bei,
Disse (e il membrarlo sol me, da me invola):
Ponmi al cor la tua destra, e ti consola:
Ch’io amo e te sol’ amo intender dei,

Poi fatta, per amor, tremante e bianca,
In atto soävissimo mi pose
La bella faccia sulla spalla manca.

Se dopo il dole assai più duol l’amaro;
Se per me nullo istante a quel rispose,
Ah! quant’ era in quell’ ora il morir caro!

It was night, and beside Her
Who alone reached my heart and there remains alone,
With those tears that impede words
I pleaded for pity on my anguish.

When She, lowering her lovely eyes,
Said (the mere memory of it makes my head whirl):
“Place your hand on my heart, and be consoled:
You should know that I love you and you alone.”

This said from love, pale and trembling,
In the sweetest of acts she leaned
Her lovely face on my left shoulder.

Even if, after this bliss, grief was far more bitter,
Even if, for me, no moment matched this,
Ah! how dear was dying in that hour!