1. Aggio visto na figliola, Bell'assaje e graziosa, Tutt'acconcia e vrucculosa, Uh! che zuccaro che d'è! Quant'è doce chella vocca, Quant'è bello chillo riso! Tu te cride mparadiso Quanno sta vicino a te. 2. Quann'a sera stonco sulo, Penso sempe a Carolina; Vene nsuonno a mme vicino, M'accarezze e se ne va. Quanno pò se schiara juorno, Chella varca menco a mare, Voca vo...che buò vocare, N'aggio forza de vocà. 3. Carolì quanto sì bella Co sto musso a cerasiello! Ch'aggio fatto io puveriello Che mme faje tanto patè? Dice buono Tata mio, Oh! che guajo che è l'ammore! Tu te vide ntutte l'ore, Mpilo, mpilo ajemè sperè. 4. Tu te cride ca non pozzo? Io non songo no falluto; No, vestito de velluto Te lo faccio mmeretà. Quanno pò jamm'a Puzzano, Chi te dice: quant'è bella! Chi: mme pare na fatella Mieze a tutte chelle lla. 5. Aggio perzo a pace ntunno, Chiù non beco, chiù non sento; Faccio sempe nu lamiento; Ah chi sa sì pensa a me? Si speranza chiù non aggio, Ca tu bene mme vurraje, Viene a mare e truvarraje Nu cadavere pe tte!

1. I have seen a maiden slender, Graceful, pretty, young, and sprightly, With her dark eyes beaming brightly, Sweet as sugar, too, is she! My poor heart I must surrender, She enchants me when she's smiling, And her glance is so beguiling, 'T is like Paradise to me. 2. In the night, alone and weary, Thoughts of Caroline come o'er me, And in sleep she stands before me With a soft, caressing air: When the dawn is faintly glowing, In my bark I'm sadly rowing, But so feeble I am growing, I've no strength, I do declare! 3. Caroline, she is so pretty, And her voice, it does so please me; Then why should she always tease me, Causing my poor heart such pain? Father tells me—more's the pity!— While you love, you'll be in trouble! At her sight my woes redouble, For I feel my hopes are vain. 4. Do you think I am not able? Never mind, I shall not fail yet, I can buy a dress of velvet Any time that you may care: When we travel to Puzzano, Some will say, She's like a fairy! And the others, She is very Sweet beside those women there! 5. All my peace of mind has left me, Nothing now can give me pleasure; I am mourning for my treasure; Does she ever think of me? Since of hope you have bereft me, There is naught in life to bind me, And some morning you will find me Floating dead upon the sea.

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Marzo, Eduardo. Songs of Italy; sixty-five Tuscan, Florentine, Lombardian and other Italian folk- and popular songs. New York: G. Schirmer, 1904. 129

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