Bambino, bambino, bambino,
You know nothing about worry and suffering.
Bambino, bambino, bambino,
You still have enough time for that.
You're sleeping under trees in the garden
And flowers are nodding at you.
You know nothing about hoping and waiting,
Nothing disturbs your childish peace.
It smells sweetly of flowers,
They dream secretly in the wind.
And small, smiling deer guard
My sleeping child.