Here, where the sea shines
and the wind howls,
on the old terrace
beside the gulf of Sorrento,
a man embraces a girl
after the tears,
then clears his throat
and continues the song:
I love you very much
very, very much, you know;
it is a chain by now
that heats the blood inside the veins,
you know...
He saw the lights out on the sea,
thought of the nights there in America,
but they were only the fishermen's lamps
and the white wash astern.
He felt the pain in the music
and stood up from the piano,
but when he saw the moon
emerging from a cloud,
death also seemed sweeter to him.
He looked the girl in the eyes,
those eyes as green as the sea.
Then suddenly a tear fell
and he believed he was drowning.
I love you very much,
very, very much, you know;
it is a chain by now
that heats the blood inside the veins,
you know...
The power of opera,
where every drama is a hoax;
with a little make-up and with mime
you can [bad word] someone else.
But two eyes that look at you,
so close and real,
make you forget the words,
confuse your thoughts,
so everything [bad word] small,
also the nights there in America.
You turn and see your life
through the white wash astern.
But, yes, it is life that ends
and he did not think much about it,
on the contrary, he already felt happy
and continued his song:
I love you very much,
very, very much, you know;
it is a chain by now
that heats the blood inside the veins,
you know...