‘Vago augelleto che cantando vai,'
Little wandering bird that goes singing
your time gone by, with weeping notes,
seeing the night and the winter near,
and the day and all the joyful months behind,
if, knowing your own heavy sorrows,
you could know of my state like your own,
you would fly to this disconsolate breast
to share your grievous sadness with me.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem