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Lamento della Ninfa (the Nymph’s Lament), written anywhere between 1614 and 1638, year of its publication in the Eight Book of Madrigals, is one of my favourite compositions of Monteverdi.
The text is divided in three parts with the nymph lamenting her fate in the middle and the choir of pastori (shepherds; 2 tenors and 1 bass) on either side. The choir introduces and concludes the sad story of the nymph, and also take part in the lament, commenting (with compassion) the scene that takes place before our eyes.
Unlike the nineteen other works appearing in the Eight Book, Monteverdi adds introductory notes to the Lamento specifying how the piece has to be performed. Interestingly enough, when it comes to the nymph he writes ‘she has to sing according the her emotions’ (al tempo dell’affetto del animo), while the pastori were expected to sing at a regular beat (al tempo della mano).
I think that giving the soprano licence to follow her passions and moods is what makes this piece timeless, as every interpreter gives a personal and unique rendition of it. When it comes to profound matters, not giving (setting) instructions (rules) is the wisest thing to do because no language (including music, painting, mathematics,…) can faithfully transmit the essence of humanness. This in turn shows that Monteverdi had a deep knowledge of human emotions.
The text (written by Ottavio Rinuccini) of the lament (with an english translation) is:

Non havea Febo ancora Recato al mondo il dí, Ch’una donzella fuora Del proprio albergo uscí. Sul pallidetto volto Scorgeasi il suo dolor, Spesso gli venia sciolto Un gran sospir dal cor. Sí calpestando fiori Errava hor qua, hor là, I suoi perduti amori Cosí piangendo va.	Phoebus had not yet brought The day to the world, When a maiden so angry Came out of her house. On her pale face Her pain could be read, And every so often A heavy sigh came from her heart. Stepping on flowers, She wandered from here to there, Bewailing her lost love With these words.
Amor (Dicea) Amor (il ciel mirando, il piè fermo,) Amor Dove, dov’è la fè Ch’el traditor giurò? (Miserella) Fa che ritorni il mio Amor com’ei pur fu, O tu m’ancidi, ch’io Non mi tormenti più. (Miserella, ah più, no, Tanto gel soffrir non può.) Non vo’ più ch’ei sospiri se lontan da me, No, no che i martiri Più non dirammi affè. (Ah miserella, ah più, no, no) Perché di lui mi struggo, Tutt’orgoglioso sta, Che sí, che sí se’l fuggo Ancor mi pregherà? (Miserella, ah più, no, Tanto gel soffrir non può.) Se ciglio ha più sereno Colei, che’l mio non è, Già non rinchiude in seno Amor sí bella fè. (Miserella, ah più, no, Tanto gel soffrir non può.) Ne mai sí dolci baci Da quella bocca havrai, Ne più soavi, ah taci, Taci, che troppo il sai. (Miserella)	Love (She said) Love (gazing at the sky, Standing still) Love Where is the troth that the traitor vowed? (Unhappy one) Make him return to my Love, as he once was, Or else kill me, so I Can no longer torment myself. (The poor girl, ah no more, no, can she suffer so much ice.) I no longer want him to breathe, unless far from me so that he can no longer say the things that torture me (Ah, the poor girl, ah no more, no, no) Because I destroy myself for him, so full of pride as he is; but if I flee from him, again he entraits me. (The poor girl, ah no more, no, can she suffer so much ice) A more serene eybrow has she than mine, but love has not planted in his breast so fair a faith. (The poor girl, ah no more, no, can she suffer so much ice) Not ever such sweet kisses will he have from that mouth, not softer, a quiet, quiet, he knows it only too well. (The poor girl)
Sí tra sdegnosi pianti Spargea le voci al ciel; Cosí ne’ cori amanti Mesce amor fiamma, e gel.	Thus with indignant complaints, the voice rose up to the sky; thus, in loving hearts, love mingles flame and ice.

From a seemingly trivial tragedy, Monteverdi takes us deep into our own human nature.
One can find many interpretations of the Lamento on youtube and each one of them is special and unique. Here are two of my favourite ones:

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