Vola Colomba

Fly, white dove, fly,
tell him that I will return.

God of heaven, if I were a dove,
I would fly down where my love is,
who kneels at San Giusto
praying with a sad soul:
Make my love return, but return soon.

Fly, white dove, fly,
tell him that I will return.
Tell him that he won't be alone anymore
and that I will never leave him.

We were happy together and they separated us,
the sun, the sky, and the sea smiled at us.
We left the construction site
happy with our work
and the church bell chimed in chorus.

Fly, white dove, fly,
tell him that I will return.
Tell him that he won't be alone anymore
and that I will never leave him.

Every evening I fall asleep sadly
and in my dreams I cry and call for you.
Even my old man dreams of you
thinks of the sufferings endured
cries and hides his face in the covers.

Fly, white dove, fly.
God of heaven, tell him.