Pleure Clara, pleure [English translation]

I am the Italian mourner

Curled up under the oak

From an imaginary cemetery

Where we bury only air

Oh as long as a war explodes

Provided that a tyrant intervenes

I love so much crying with my brothers

Yes it's very beautiful to see them doing

Cry Clara, cry

Cry Clara, cry

Give me a soldier to wait

A reason for my tender heart

To be confused in feelings

That's how he feels alive

My gloved hand holds the handkerchief

All wet of my despair

It's me sitting in front of everyone

Like the coming night is dark

Cry Clara, cry

Cry Clara, cry

Cry Clara, cry

Cry Clara, cry

Cry Clara, cry

Cry Clara, cry

Cry Clara, cry

Cry Clara, cry

Cry Clara, cry

Clara