Libretto/Lyrics/Text/Testo:
SCENA III
Otello
OTELLO
Dio! mi potevi scagliar tutti i mali
della miseria, della vergogna,
far de' miei baldi trofei trionfali
una maceria, una menzogna…
E avrei portàto la croce crudel
d'angoscie e d'onte
con calma fronte
e rassegnato al volere del ciel.
Ma, o pianto, o duol! m'han rapito il mirraggio
dov'io, giulivo, l'anima acqueto.
Spento è quel sol, quel sorriso, quel raggio
che mi fa vivo, che mi fa lieto!
Tu alfin, Clemenza, pio genio immortal
dal roseo riso,
copri il tuo viso
santo coll'orrida larva infernal!
English Libretto or Translation:
OTHELLO
God! Thou couldst have rained upon my head
every affliction of poverty and shame,
made of my heroic battle-honours
a heap of ruination and a lie ...
and I should have borne the cruel cross
of torment and disgrace
with patience
and resigned me to the will of heaven.
But – oh tears, oh pain! –
to rob me of that vision
in which my soul was garnered joyfully!
That sun has been snuffed out,
that smile, that ray
which gives me life and happiness!
That sun has been snuffed out, etc.
Mercy, thou immortal
rose-lipped cherubin,
cover at the last thy holy face
with the horrid mask of hell!
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