The Banks of the Sweet Primroses [Italian translation]

As I roved out one midsummer's morning

To view the fields and to take the air

'Twas down by the banks of the sweet primroses

There I beheld a most lovely fair

Says I: "Fair maid, where can you be a going

And what's the occasion of all your grief

I will make you as happy as any lady

If you will grant me one small relief"

Stand up, stand up, you false deceiver

You are a false deceitful man, 'tis plain

'Tis you that is causing my poor heart to wander

And to give me comfort 'tis all in vain

Now I'll go down to some lonesome valley

Where no man on earth shall e'er me find

Where the pretty small birds do change their voices

And ev'ry moment blows blustrous wild