Ira Di Dio [English translation]

Unless the author

Misses out on his death/funeral,

Nothing will cease

To be apt/applicable.

Lord, you who in this jail

Has held me prisoner,

Take me from it.

I go weeping

With my errors, and don't excuse them, but,

Lord, as you know too of suffering,

If you were to know ...

My disconsolate state,

Immortal King of Heaven,

You would come to me, Lord,

You would come ...

Wrath of God,

From thought to thought,

Love, love, turns to hate ...

Now, in the fog of oblivion,

It seems to me,

I entrust only to you

Courteous suffering.

To those to be warned:

There is no place

To cede to rage;

Enjoy life!

With my sweet thoughts,

My old servitude

Striking at me,

Whence does such sweet torment,

Whence does it come?

I ask!

Wrath of God,

From thought to thought

Love, love, turns to hate ...

Now, in the fog of oblivion,

It seems to me,

I entrust only to you

Courteous suffering.