La nostra casetta

Non la sospiri, la nostra casetta
che tutta ascosa nel verde ci aspetta?
Nido a noi sacro, ignoto al mondo inter,
pien d'amore e di mister?
Al tuo fianco sentire
per le silenziose
stellate ombre, salir
le voci delle cose!
Dai boschi, dai roveti,
dall'arse erbe, dall'imo
dei franti sepolcreti
odorosi di timo.
La notte escon bisbigli
di minuscoli amori
a perfidi consigli
che ammolliscono i cuori.
Fiorite, o campi immensi, palpitate
aure marine, nel lunar albor.
Ah... piovete voluttà, volte stellate!
Arde in Tosca un folle amor!

Do you not long for our little house
that is waiting for us, hidden in the grove?
Our refuge, sacred to us and unseen by the world,
protected with love and mystery?
Oh, at your side to listen there
to the voices of the night
as they rise through the starlit,
shadowed silences:
from the woods, from the thickets
and the dry grass, from the depths
of shattered tombs
scented with thyme,
the night murmurs
its thousand loves
and false counsels
to soften and seduce the heart.
Oh wide fields, blossom! and sea winds throb
in the moon's radiance, ah,
rain down desire you vaulted stars!
Tosca burns with a mad love!


From Tosca, the opera by Puccini, with a libretto by Illica and Giacosa. I copied this out from the EMI recording (1965 with Callas), but there was no translation credit. Check out the labels for this post. Yum.