Or vague fiorellin of the cemetery
how I like your brown color!
It seems to me that you answer my thought,
that you understand me when I sadden your heart.
It seems you are a symbol of affection,
or of my beloved soul,
I trust my friend to be a misfortune
your brown that always lasts.
What does it matter to me if you don't smile at the sun
with his vivid rays to make you happy?
In the shade trust romite ajuole
I will love you more in my secret;
and if I promise I will have that in the cemetery
you will be on my grave the flower of tears,
at the last hour I will not be dismayed,
and we will be happy underground.