The dragon's lair

Cecco Angiolieri

Whenever I was told a Florentine,
Egged on by anguish into desperation,
Had hanged himself beyond reanimation,
I saw it as a miracle divine;
But now it seems as natural and in line
As that some marble-cutter, passing by
After the dusty day that leaves him dry,
Should ease his gullet with a cup of wine.
For since I’ve borne with such unhappiness,
I feel the pangs of death are surely less,
Less by a thousand times. So I’ll not palter.
I’ll prove at once how great is my despair,
Far greater than this sonnet can declare,
By means of nothing but a simple halter.

translated by: C.H. Scott and Anthony Mortimer

Cecco Angiolieri

Quand’i’ solev’udir ch’un fiorentino
si fosse per dolor sì disperato
ched elli stesso si fosse ’mpiccato,
sì mi parev’un miracol divino;
ed or m’è viso che sie più latino
che non sarebb’a un che, solo nato,
avesse tutto ’l dì marmo segato,
il bever un becchier di vernaccino.
Perciò ch’i’ ho provat’un tal dolore
ch’i’ credo che la pena de la morte
sia cento milia cotanto minore.
Com’elli sia così pessim’e forte,
come ’l sonetto dic’e vie maggiore,
farò parer con men di due ritorte.