« ترانه ناقوس کلیسا »
  
وقتی غروب در آب چشمه ها غرق می شود 
روستای من به تصویری گنگ رنگ می بازد 

از دوردست آوای غوکان را به یاد می آورم 
مهتاب را، جیرجیر غمگین زنجره ها را 

دشت ها بانگ ناقوس کلیسای وستر را می بلعند 
من اما هیابانگ ناقوس ها را نمی شنوم 

بیگانه، نترس این شور من است که باز می آید 
،از فراز کوه ها 
این من ام جانی شیفته 

از بندرهای دور 
.در بازگشت به خانه 

Mystery 

Daring to lift my eyes 
towards the dry treetops, 
I don't see God, but his light 
is immensely shining.


Of all the things I know 
my heart feels only this: 
I'm young, alive, alone, 
my body consuming itself.


I briefly rest in the tall grasses 
of a river bank, under bare 
trees, then move along beneath 
clouds to live out my young days.

I'm Glad  

In the roughness of Saturday night 
I'm glad to watch people 
outside laughing in the open air.


My heart also is made of air 
my eyes reflect the joy of the people 
and in my hair shines Saturday night.


Young man, I'm glad with my miserly 
Saturday night, I'm happy with people 
I am alive, I am happy with the air.


I am used to the evil of Saturday night.

Stolen Days  

We who are poor have little time 
for youth and beauty: 
you can do well without us.


Our birth enslaves us! 
butterflies shorn of all beauty, 
buried in the chrysalis of time.


The wealthy don't pay for our time: 
those days stolen from beauty 
possessed by our fathers and us.


Will time's hunger never die?

Vincent  

Vincent won't go to the fair in the towns of the Friuli, 
they play only church bells not violins in the Friuli! 
When he sees some poor man lost in a square of Friuli 
he gives him his jacket since he's sheltered by some wall, 
when he sees a poor man lost and alone in the Friuli 
he gladly gives him his heart as the sky turns to dusk. 
"Good-bye, mom, good-bye, dad I am leaving the Friuli 
I'm leaving for America, the glory of the Friuli!" 
The train is taking me toward the clear blue sea, 
oh, the sad loneliness of dying so far from Friuli.