SiStan ChapLee

Friday, October 25, 2013

What the hell (11)

[5: 12.1 - 13.4, Satan speaks]

Ma ché rinovo i miei dolor gemendo?
Chi non ha intesi i nostri oltraggi e l'onte,
Il carcer, le catene, e 'n viso horrendo
Mutata quella chiara antica fronte?
Di quali ingiurie a ragionar mi stendo
Se parlo cose manifeste e conte?
Deh non vedete homai come s'inpingua
De l'altrui sangue? E non sermone o lingua

Il fido popol suo, ma 'l ferro e l'hasta
Adopra, ond'ogni regno atterra e sgombra;
E mentre a' Regi d'Asia egli sovrasta,
A pena lascia a noi la notte e l'ombra.

"But why should I moan so, and renew my sufferings? Who doesn't already know about our affronts and shame, this jail, these chains, and our then bright features being turned into appalling faces? What insults should I keep listing, as I speak of such obvious and well-known things? Ha, can't you see how 'he' is now getting full of our blood? And not speeches or tongues does his faithful people use, but swords and lances, and they overthrow and empty all kingdoms. And while he dominates the Kings of Asia, he hardly leave us the night and shadows."