(Cont.d)
My little Brunette, should we make a pact?
why don’t you let me rent the mill,
I am an old miller, capable and honest,
and every night I guarantee to fill
an antire measure; do you accept the contract?
I sang my song to a grieving flower;
o do accept this pact, o my brunette,
and you’ll never lack cookies for your hunger.
(Translated by Luigi Bonaffini)