Donna lombarda
Language: Italian (Italiano)
Available translation(s): ENG
Amami tu, donna lombarda!
- Non posso amarti,
Sacra corona, non posso amarti
Perchè ho marì!
- Se tu hai marito, fallo morire!
T'insegnerò.
Va nel giardino del signor padre,
Chè c'è un serpen',
Prendi la testa di quel serpente;
Pèstala ben.
Quando l'avrai ben-ben pestata,
Dannela a be',
Rivò il marito stanco assetato,
Ni chiese da be'.
- Di qualo vuole, signor marito,
Del bianco o del ner?
- Del bianco che n'è,
del meglio che c'è.
Parla un bambino di nove mesi
- Non ber quel vino,
che c'è il velen!
- Che ha questo vino, donna lombardo,
Che l'è torbè?
- Saranno i troni dell'altra sera,
Che l'han fatto torbè.
Bévelo tu,
donna lombarda! Bévelo te.
- 'Un posso beve', signor marito,
Perchè 'un ho se'.
- Con questa spada che tengo in mano
Ti ucciderò.
- E per amore del Re di Francia,
Io morirò, ah, io morirò.
Authorship:
Musical settings (art songs, Lieder, mélodies, (etc.), choral pieces, and other vocal works set to this text), listed by composer (not necessarily exhaustive):
Available translations, adaptations, and transliterations (if applicable):
- ENG English (Bonnie Pomfret) , title 1: "Lady of Lombardy", copyright © 2008, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [
Administrator]
This text was added to the website between May 1995 and September 2003.
Line count: 33
Word count: 152
Lady of Lombardy
Language: English  after the Italian (Italiano)
Love me, lady of Lombardy!
I cannot love you, holy crown,
because I have a husband.
If you have a husband, kill him;
I will teach you.
Go to your father's garden,
where there is a serpent.
Take the head of this serpent,
and beat it well.
When you have beat it well,
give it to him to drink.
The husband came tired and thirsty
asking for drink.
Which wine, my husband,
white or red?
White if there is any,
he best that we have.
A nine-month-old child speaks:
Do not drink that wine!
There is poison in it!
What is in this wine,
Lady of Lombardy,
that it is cloudy?
The thunderstorms
last night clouded it.
You drink it,
lady of Lombardy, you drink it.
I cannot, my lord husband,
because I am not thirsty.
With this spade in my hand,
I will kill you.
And for love of the king of France
I will die!
Authorship:
Based on:
This text was added to the website: 2008-01-19
Line count: 33
Word count: 157