1. Rondinella pellegrina, Che ti posi sul verone, Ricantando ogni mattina Quella flebile canzone, Che vuoi dirmi in tua favella, Pellegrina rondinella. 2. Solitaria nell'oblio, Dal tuo sposo abbandonata, Piangi forse al pianto mio Vedovetta sconsolata? Piangi, piangi, in tua favella, Pellegrina rondinella. 3. Pur di me manco infelice Tu alle penne almen t'affidi, Scorri il lago, e la pendice, Empi l'aria de tuoi gridi, Tutto il giorno in tua favella Lui chiamando, o rondinella! 4. Oh se anch'io!...Ma lo contende Questa bassa angusta volta, Dove'l sole non risplende, Dove l'aria ancor m'è tolta, D'onde a te la mia favella Giunge appena, o rondinella. 5. Il Settembre innanzi viene E a lasciarmi ti prepari: Tu vedrai lontane arene, Nuovi monti, nuovi mari, Salutando in tua favella, Pellegrina rondinella. 6. Ed io tutte le mattine Riaprendo gli occhi al pianto, Fra le nevi e fra le brine Crederò d'udir quel canto, Onde par che in tua favella Mi compianga, o rondinella. 7. Una croce a primavera Troverai su questo suolo: Rondinella, in su la sera Sovra lei raccogli il volo; Dimmi pace in tua favella, Pellegrina rondinella.

1. Pilgrim swallow, lightly winging, Now upon the terrace sitting, Ev'ry morn I hear thee singing In sad tones thy song repeating. What may be the tale thou'rt telling, Pilgrim swallow, near my dwelling? 2. In thy solitude abandoned, By thy mate perchance forsaken, Dost thou weep to see me weeping, Gentle widow all heartbroken? From thy tears relief I borrow, Weep then, weep, thou pilgrim swallow. 3. Thou art happier far than I am, On free wing at least thou'rt flying; Over lake and breezy mountain, Thou canst fill the air with crying His dear name through cave and hollow: Thou art free, thou pretty swallow. 4. Were I free! —but 't is denied me— This low roof my soul confineth, E'en of air they have deprived me, Here the bright sun never shineth; From this murky dungeon hollow Scarce my words can reach thee, swallow! 5. Soon September will be coming, Soon wilt thou prepare for leaving, To far shores wilt thou be roaming, O'er new seas and mountains cleaving. O, thy flight could I but follow!— Greet them for me, pilgrim swallow! 6. Here then ev'ry morn awaking, In mine eyes will tears be springing, 'Mid the snow and frost so chilling I shall deem I hear thee singing; And 't will seem that in thy ditty Thou art fain to tell thy pity. 7. In the spring a cross so lonely On this soil wilt thou find planted; Swallow, in the shades of evening Let my last poor wish be granted: Circle round my narrow dwelling, While thy song of peace is telling.

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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. 47

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