Queste pungente spine - Christina Pluhar, L'Arpeggiata, Philippe Jaroussky

Queste pungenti spine

Che ne’boschi d’abisso

Nodrite ed allevate

Affliggono, trafiggono

O crudeltade

O crudeltade

Il mio Signor e Dio

Son saete divine

Che col foco del cielo

Addolcite e temprate

Allettano, dilettano

O, gran pietade

Il cor divoto, divoto e pio

E tu, anima mia

Non sai che sia dolore

Ancor non senti amore?

Non sai che sia dolore

Ancor non senti amore?

Stolta che fai?

Che pensi?

Il tuo Giesù tradito

Il tuo Giesù piagato

Si lacera, si macera

Ohimè, che stato

Ohimè, che stato

Solo per darti vita

E tu ingrata

I sensi ogn’hor

Più cruda induri

Sei di cor si spietato

Si rigido, si frigido

O stelle, o fato

Che non procuri aita?

O aita

Ben veggio, anima mia

Non sai che sia dolore

Ancor non senti amore

Non sai che sia dolore

Ancor non senti amore

These stinging thorns

That in woods of the abyss

Couped and talled

Afflict, aggrieve

Oh cruelty

Oh cruelty

My Lord and my God

They are divine arrows

That, through heaven’s fire

Appease and temper

Persuade, delight

Oh great devotion

The faithful and pious heart

And you, my soul

You don’t know but pain

Still don’t feel love?

You don’t know but pain

Still don’t feel love?

You make a fool of yourself

What are you thinking?

Your Jesus betrayed

Your Jesus wounded

Lacerates, torments himself

Oh, how bad is his condition

Oh, how bad is his condition

Just to give you life

And you, ungrateful

Your feelings every hour

You, unrelenting, harden them

Is your heart so ruthless

So rigid, so cold

Oh stars, oh fate

That you are not seeking help?

Oh help

Now I see, my soul

That you don’t know but pain

Still don’t feel love

That you don’t know but pain

Still don’t feel love

These prickly thorns

What about the woods of the abyss

Nodrite and bred

They afflict, they pierce

O cruelty

O cruelty

My Lord and God

Son saete divine

Than with the fire of the sky

Softened and tempered

They allure, they delight

Or, great pietade

The devout, devout and pious heart

And you, my soul

You don't know it's pain

Don't you still feel love?

You don't know it's pain

Don't you still feel love?

You foolish what are you doing?

What do you think?

Your betrayed Jesus

Your wounded Jesus

It tears, it macerates

Oh dear, what a state

Oh dear, what a state

Just to give you life

And you ungrateful

The senses every hour

More raw harden

You are ruthless at heart

Yes stiff, yes frigid

Or stars, or fate

What do you not get aita?

O aita

Well see, my soul

You don't know it's pain

You still don't feel love

You don't know it's pain

You still don't feel love

These stinging thorns

That in woods of the abyss

Couped and talled

Afflict, aggrieve

Oh cruelty

Oh cruelty

My Lord and my God

They are divine arrows

That, through heaven's fire

Appease and temper

Persuades, delight

Oh great devotion

The faithful and pious heart

And you, my soul

You don't know but pain

Still don't feel love?

You don't know but pain

Still don't feel love?

You make a fool of yourself

What are you thinking?

Your Jesus betrayed

Your Jesus wounded

Lacerates, torments himself

Oh, how bad is his condition

Oh, how bad is his condition

Just to give you life

And you, ungrateful

Your feelings every hour

You, unrelenting, harden them

Is your heart so ruthless

So rigid, so cold

Oh stars, oh fairies

That you are not seeking help?

Oh help

Now I see, my soul

That you don't know but pain

Still don't feel love

That you don't know but pain

Still don't feel love