From a scintillating star
he will signal me to come,
by a light of eternity
when he calls me I will go.
To ask him for that child
that I lost with his death,
that with Nonino he went...
When he tells me come here...
I'll be reborn ... because...
I am...! the root of the country
that modeled with its clay,
I am...! blood and skin,
of that Italian who gave me his seed...
Good-bye Nonino...how long the road
will be without you
Pain, sadness, the table and the bread...!
and my good-bye...Ay...! my good-bye,
to your love, your tobacco, your wine.
Who, without pity, took half of me,
when taking you Nonino....?
Perhaps one day, I also looking back...
will say as you, good-bye... no more bets...!
And today my old Nonino is a part of nature.
He is the light, the wind, and the river...
this torrent within me replaces him,
extending in me his challenge.
I perpetuate myself in his blood, I know.
And anticipate in my voice, his own echo.
This voice that once sounded hollow to me
when I said good-bye... Good-bye Nonino.
I am...! the root of the country
that modeled with its clay,
I am...! blood and skin,
of that Italian who gave me his seed...
Good-bye Nonino... you left your sun in my destiny.
your fearless ardor, your creed of love.
And that eagerness...Ah..! your eagerness,
for seeding the road with hope.
I am your honeycomb and this drop of sunlight
that today cries for you Nonino
perhaps the day when my string is cut
I will see you and I will know there is no end.