Nobody knows, nobody knows,
even if everybody wants to know it,
neither the key, neither the key
of my when, my how and my why.
I like to be free like the wind
that moves the olive tree and ripples the sea
to lay in the shadow of my thought
and then at night starting to sing.
A carnation
a red, a red carnation -a carnation-
at the edge of my mouth
I cared like a mad
putting my life in it.
And the carnation
when it saw you, my dear,
it got so lit
that is burning my skin.
Black hair, black hair,
that smells strongly to mint and lemon,
black eyes, black jealousy,
first cousin of my heart.
I don't give a damn about what people say
that I come and go by the sandy side
and I wore out the bridge slabs
of crossing it too much in the early morning