“Why linger here, my soul?
The torments you will have to suffer here
Upon this earth which even now you hate,
Weigh heavily upon my fearful mind.”
Then calling upon death,
As I would call on lovely, soothing peace,
I say: “Come to me,” with such yearning love
That I am jealous of whoever dies.

[«Anima mia, ché non ten vai?
ché li tormenti che tu porterai
nel secol, che t’è già tanto noioso,
mi fan pensoso di paura forte».
Ond’io chiamo la Morte,
come soave e dolce mio riposo;
e dico «Vieni a me» con tanto amore,
che sono astioso di chiunque more.]

Dante Alighieri (1265-1321) Italian poet

La Vita Nuova [Vita Nova; New Life], ch. 33 (c. 1294, pub. 1576) [tr. Musa (1971)]
    (Source)

Mourning the death of Beatrice, from the perspective of one of her kinsmen, his friend.

(Source (Italian)). Alternate translations:

My soul, why longer stay?
For all the torments which thou shalt endure
In this sad world, to thee so painful grown,
Fill me with thought and fear of ills to come,
Wherefore I call for death,
As for a sweet and tranquil state of rest,
And say, O come to me! with love so true,
That I am envious of whoever dies.
[tr. Lyell (1845), Ballata 4]

Soul of mine, why stayest thou?
Truly the anguish, Soul, that we must bow
Beneath, until we win out of this life,
Gives me full oft a fear that trembleth:
So that I call on Death
Even as on Sleep one calleth after strife,
Saying, Come unto me. Life showeth grim
And bare; and if one dies, I envy him.
[tr. Rossetti (c. 1847; 1899 ed.)]

I cry -- "Oh, why, my soul, no longer stay?"
For lo, the pangs which thou shalt bear alway,
In this vile world, to thee so full of woes.
Fill me with fears, and sadden all my breath!
Then do I call on Death
To lap me in his soft and sweet repose,
And say," Oh, come to me!" with love so deep.
That I, when others die, with envy weep.
[tr. Martin (1862)]

I say, “My soul, why goest thou not away,
Seeing the torments thou wilt have to bear,
In this world so molestful now to thee,
Make me foreboding with a heavy fear?”
And therefore upon Death
I call, as to my sweet and soft repose,
And say, “Come thou to me,” with such desire
That I am envious of whoever dies.
[tr. Norton (1867), ch. 34]

"My soul, why dost thou not depart from me?
The torments which perforce will burden thee
Here in the world which hateful to thee grows
My mind with fearful apprehension fill."
To Death then I appeal
As to a sweet, benecent repose:
"Come now to me," with so much love I cry
That I am envious of all who die.
[tr. Reynolds (1969), ch. 33]

"Why linger here, my soul? The torments you will be subjected to in this life which already you detest, weigh heavily upon my fearful mind."
Then calling upon Death, as I would call on lovely, soothing Peace, I say with yearning love: "Please come to me." And I am jealous of whoever dies.
[tr. Hollander (1997), ch. 33, sec. 5-6]

‘My spirit, why do you not go,
since the torments you suffer
in this world, which grows so hateful to you,
bring such great thoughts of dread?’
Then I call on Death,
as to a sweet and gentle refuge:
and I say: ‘Come to me’ with such love,
that I am envious of all who die.
[tr. Kline (2002)]

"My soul, why do you not depart?
For the torments you will undergo
in this life, which is already so burdensome to you,
make me think strongly of fear."
So that I call upon Death
as a sweet, gentle repose for me,
and I say "Come to me" so lovingly
that I begrudge whoever dies.
[tr. Appelbaum (2006), ch. 33]

I say, “My soul, why don’t you go away?
because the torments that you’ll bear to stay
in this world (for you, already martyrdom),
have made me numb with fear and fretful breath.”
And then I call for Death,
so mild and sweet a moratorium:
“Now, come,” I beg (so amorously said,
that I feel bitter envy for the dead).
[tr. Frisardi (2012), ch. 22]