Libretto/Lyrics/Text/Testo:
TUTTI
Mi par d'essere con la testa
in un'orrida fucina,
dove cresce e mai non resta
delle incudini sonore
l'importuno strepitar.
Alternando questo e quello
pesantissimo martello
fa con barbara armonia
muri e volte rimbombar.
E il cervello, poverello,
già stordito, sbalordito,
non ragiona, si confonde,
si riduce ad impazzar.
English Libretto or Translation:
ALL
My head seems to be
in a fiery smithy,
the sound of the anvils,
ceasless and growing.
deafens the ear.
Up and down, high and low,
striking heavily, the hammer
makes the very walls resound
with a barbarous harmony.
Thus our poor, bewildered brain,
stunned, confounded,
in confusion, without reason,
is reduced to insanity. etc.
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