Italiano
The tinted heights of Genoa are glorious in the sun
That sets on peace that war has brought—new history begun;
New history for Italy, new history for the world,
The Flag of Honour high above dishonoured flags unfurled.
The message came to Naples, the message came to Rome,
To Florence and to Venice to call past glories home;
The deep, cool streets of Genoa hold hearts with fire a-glow,
Where women by the fountain wash fair linen white as snow.
Vesuvius glows by Naples now on her midsummer nights;
The moon hangs full o'er Naples with her long, straight lines of lights;
On barren coasts of Italy and islands strangely lone
That won this heart of mine because they seemed so like our own.
The moonlight gleams in Rome to-night on living statues there;
The glorious stars in Venice are mirrored everywhere;
And thoughts of Florence and the past make my dimmed eyes more dim,
Whence marched a mate of mine to war—and I would I were with him!
That sets on peace that war has brought—new history begun;
New history for Italy, new history for the world,
The Flag of Honour high above dishonoured flags unfurled.
The message came to Naples, the message came to Rome,
To Florence and to Venice to call past glories home;
The deep, cool streets of Genoa hold hearts with fire a-glow,
Where women by the fountain wash fair linen white as snow.
Vesuvius glows by Naples now on her midsummer nights;
The moon hangs full o'er Naples with her long, straight lines of lights;
On barren coasts of Italy and islands strangely lone
That won this heart of mine because they seemed so like our own.
The moonlight gleams in Rome to-night on living statues there;
The glorious stars in Venice are mirrored everywhere;
And thoughts of Florence and the past make my dimmed eyes more dim,
Whence marched a mate of mine to war—and I would I were with him!
Translation:
Language:
Reviews
No reviews yet.