Era geloso tenero appassionato, mi amava come un sole divino, ma perché non cantasse il passato ha ucciso il mio uccello alburnino.
Entrando nella stanza al tramonto – “Amami – disse – ridi, scrivi versi! “ e ho seppellito l’allegro uccello oltre il pozzo tondo, al vecchio ontano.
Ho promesso che non avrei pianto, ma il cuore mi é diventato di pietra e ovunque mi sembra di udire la sua dolce canzone.
He was jealous, fearful and tender, he loved me like God’s only light, and that she not sing of the past times he killed my bird colored white.
He said, in the lighthouse at sundown: “Love me, laugh and write poetry!” And I buried the joyous songbird behind a round well near a tree.
I promised that I would not mourn her. But my heart turned to stone without choice, and it seems to me that everywhere and always I’ll hear her sweet voice.
