Cando s’ànima mea disamorada…
When my loveless soul…
falat a profundu s’alenu de su sero
the breath of evening descends deeply
e làgrimas naran chi est debadas sa vida,
and the tears say that life is useless,
tando s’ànima mea che rùndine perdida
then my soul, like a lost swallow,
si fuet, cheret bolare addae,
flees, it wants to fly away,
s’inghìriat s’unda ‘e su mare,
the waves of the sea roll over,
limba de fogu bortat in bona sa mala fortuna
and a fire tongue turns into good the bad luck
Cando s’ànima mea addolorida…
When my sorrowful soul…
penas e dultzuras mùilan a profundu
pain and sweetness howl deeply
e làgrimas naran chi est debadas sa vida,
and the tears say that life is useless,
tando s’ànima mea che rùndine perdida
then my soul, like a lost swallow,
si fuet, cheret bolare addae,
flees, it wants to fly away,
s’inghìriat s’unda ‘e su mare,
the waves of the sea roll over,
limba de fogu bortat in bona sa mala fortuna
and a fire tongue turns into good the bad luck
Bortat in bona sa mala fortuna
It turns into good the bad luck