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.
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