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A glittering ornamented gauze veils the simple clear truth; everyone pretends to be charitable; but I see hard bitter hearts covered up by sweet faces; around me I hear countless false sirens, know those who are given to hear, those they allure are vile; I hear trumpets sounding, bells ringing for the sepulchred living. Malicious era, cursed depraved harpies-- they don't so much as glance at you while they cut out your heart, throw out respect, their lives, time, treasures. If God whose weapons are just, decent, does not now smash these entangling snares, His Hallowed hand will never be free. |
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Notes: From Bullock S1, 14, 92; in MS V2 (Caruso f.43v); Valgrisi 14. Reference: Matt 23:27: "hypocrites! for ye are like unto whites sepulchres, which indeed appear beautiful outward, but are within full of dead men's bones, and of all uncleanness." Key |