Canta pe' mme.
After the Neapolitan folk song of the same name & the performance by Mario Lanza (1921-1959).

Sailing onward, as the sea glistens,
I love you full and love with all,
I hold you close, and you’re warm,
hearing a heart, strange, strong,
above the waves, yet not your voice.

In the red sun, you are beautiful,
so still; a statue fresh-chiselled,
faint salted winds rustle bare skin,
your voice a clear, fervent elixir;
shall we die with seaward smiles?

Walk the coast with me in arms,
by vendors, singers with songs
none like yours, tender and grand;
we gather hands by rockpools;
I would trade your voice for a kiss.

So silent are the streets of stone,
worn and cold unlike your eyes,
I don’t hear the chattering of birds,
but still your voice, by your smile;
the night is young, warm, sweet.

Canta, canta pe' mme, amore meiu,
as we lay, skin as marble dewed;
the song from before is different,
perhaps, sweeter somehow, fainter;
cantate a serenata di a perfezione.