Skip to content
ARCHIVE
Archive notice. This is a historical page from the ItalianOpera archive (website online since 1995). Some formatting and links may reflect the original legacy structure.

TESTO DEL LIED

"The River"
di Pietro d'Alba [likely a joke name]

River, mother of fighting men,
(Rustula!)
Sternest barrier of our land,
(Rustula!)
From thy bosom we drew life:
Ancient, honoured, mighty, grand!
Rustula!
Oh! what worship had been thine,
(Rustula!)
Hadst thou held the foe-men, drowned;
(Rustula!)
Flood, more precious far than wine,
Victress, saviour, world-renowned!
Rustula!
Rustula!
Like a girl before her lover,
(Rustula!)
How thou falterdst, - like a slave;
(Rustula!)
Sank and fainted, low and lower,
When thy mission was to save.
Coward, traitress, shameless!
Rustula!
On thy narrowed, niggard strand,
(Rustula!)
Despairing, now the tyrant's hand
(Rustula!)
Grips the last remnant of our land,
Wounded and alone I stand,
Tricked, derided, impotent!
Rustula!