by Luigi Balestra (1808 - 1863)
Translation © by Mario Giuseppe Genesi

Deh, pietoso, oh Addolorata
Language: Italian (Italiano)  after the German (Deutsch) 
Available translation(s): ENG FRE
 Deh, pietoso, oh Addolorata,
 China il guardo al mio dolore;
 Tu, una spada fitta in core,
 Volgi gl'occhi desolata
 Al morente tuo figliuol.
 Quelle occhiate, i sospir vanno
 Lassù al padre e son preghiera
 Che il suo tempri ed il tuo affanno.
 Come a me squarcin le viscere 
 Gl'insoffribili miei guai
 E dell'ansio petto i palpiti
 Chi comprendere può mai?
 Di che trema il cor? Che vuol?
 Ah! tu sola il sai, tu sol!
 Sempre, ovunque il passo io giro,
 Qual martiro, qual martiro
 Qui nel sen porto con me!
 Solitaria appena, oh, quanto 
 Verso allora, oh, quanto pianto
 E di dentro scoppia il cor.
 Sul vasel del finestrino 
 La mia la crima scendea
 Quando all'alba del mattino
 Questi fior per te cogliea,
 Chè del sole il primo raggio
 La mia stanza rischiarava
 E dal letto mi cacciava
 Agitandomi il dolor.
 Ah, per te dal disonore,
 Dalla morte io sia salvata.
 Deh, pietoso al mio dololre
 China il guardo, oh Addolorata!

Authorship

Based on

Musical settings (art songs, Lieder, mélodies, (etc.), choral pieces, and other vocal works set to this text), listed by composer (not necessarily exhaustive)

Available translations, adaptations, and transliterations (if applicable):

  • ENG English (Mario Giuseppe Genesi) , title 1: "Oh, with mercy, Oh Woman of Griefs", copyright ©, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
  • FRE French (Français) (Guy Laffaille) , title 1: "Oh, aie pitié, ô femme de douleurs", copyright © 2015, (re)printed on this website with kind permission


Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]

Text added to the website: 2003-11-16 00:00:00
Last modified: 2014-06-16 10:02:00
Line count: 32
Word count: 162

Oh, with mercy, Oh Woman of Griefs
Language: English  after the Italian (Italiano) 
 Oh, with mercy, Oh Woman of Griefs
 Lower your glance towards my pains
 Thou , heart-crossed by a sword
 Address your eyes , oh desolate
 To a son of yours that dies.
 All those glances, all that sighing
 Turn to God and become prayers
 That will temper his and your pity.
 Why do my unbearable troubles
 Keep on breaking my bowels 
 And who will be able to understand
 The anxieties of my breast ?
 What is shaking my heart ? What's going on ?
 Ah! You alone know it , you alone !
 Always , wherever I walk or go,
 So huge a torment and martyrdon 
 I bear here in my breast !
 Alone then, Oh , how long
 I keep on crying , Oh , so many tears
 And inside my heart is just like bursting.
 On the vase there near the window
 My sole tear began to fall
 When inside the morning dawn
 I just picked for you there flowers,
 When the first new morning sun ray
 Lit up my room clearly,
 And out of bed it always threw me 
 Whippering all my pains.
 Ah, with your graceful intervention
 May I be save from dishonor and death
 Oh with mercy towards my pains
 Lower your glance , Oh Woman of Griefs.

Authorship

  • Translation from Italian (Italiano) to English copyright © by Mario Giuseppe Genesi, (re)printed on this website with kind permission. To reprint and distribute this author's work for concert programs, CD booklets, etc., you may ask the copyright-holder(s) directly or ask us; we are authorized to grant permission on their behalf. Please provide the translator's name when contacting us.
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Text added to the website: 2003-11-16 00:00:00
Last modified: 2014-06-16 10:02:00
Line count: 32
Word count: 214