Fernande` won't go to Cap`d`Anno in Pettorano,
they play only church bells not serenades there!
When he saw some poor man lost in Piazza Zannelli
he gave him his jacket and shelter by the stone walls,
when he saw another man lost and alone on Muraglione
he gladly gave him his heart as the blue sky turned to ashes.
'Good-bye, grandpa, good-bye, all, I am leaving Abruzzi
I'm leaving for America, the great land of opportunity! '
The train is taking him toward the dazzling turquoise sea,
oh, the sad loneliness of dying young so far from Pettorano.
His birth enslaved him! A butterfly shorn of all beauty,
buried in the chrysalis of time.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem