La' sui monti dell'Est,
la cicogna cantò.
Ma l'april non rifiorì,
Ma la neve non sgelò.
Dal deserto al mar non odi tu mille voci sospirar:
"Principessa, scendi a me!
Tutto fiorirà, tutto splenderà!" Ah!
There in the mountains in the East,
The stork sings.
But April will not flourish again,
And the snow will not melt.
From the desert to the sea, do not listen to thousands of voices sighing,
"Princess, come down to me!
Everything will flourish, and everything will shine!" Ah!
posted by Lucy Sloan @ 1:09 AM
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