Madama Butterfly / Act 1: "America for ever" - Carlo Bergonzi , Giacomo Puccini , Tullio Serafin перевод на английский

Madama Butterfly / Act 1: "America for ever"

(Si alza, toccando il bicchiere con Sharpless.)
America forever!
(Sharpless)
America forever!
(Pinkerton e Sharpless siedono ancora sulla terrazza.)
(Sharpless)
Ed è bella la sposa?
(Goro, che ha ascoltato,
Affronta la terrazza spaventosa e insinuante.)
(Goro)
Una ghirlanda di fiori freschi,
Una stella dai raggi d'oro.
(Al Console)
E per nulla: sol cento yen.
Se Vostra Grazia mi comanda
Ce n'ho un assortimento ...
(B.F. Pinkerton)
(Con forte impazienza, via)
Va, conducila Goro.
(Goro scende e scompare scendendo dalla collina.)
(Sharpless)
Quale smania vi prende!
Sareste addirittura cotto?
(B.F. Pinkerton)
Non so! non so!
Dipende dal grado di cottura!
Amore o grillo -
Dir non saprei.
Certo costei m'ha colle ingenue arti invescato.
Lieve qual tenue vetro soffiato
Alla statura, al portamento
Sembra figura da paravento.
Ma dal suo lucido fondo di lacca
Come con subito moto si stacca;
Qual farfalletta svolazza e posa
Con tal grazietta silenziosa,
Che di rincorrerla furor m'assale -
Se pure infrangerne dovessi l'ale.

Madama Butterfly / Act 1: "America for ever"

(He stands up, touching glasses with Sharpless.)
America forever! I pledge to you my faith and true allegiance.
(Sharpless)
America forever!
(Pinkerton and Sharpless are seated on the terrace once more.)
(Sharpless)
And is the bride beautiful?
(Goro, who has been listening,
Approaches the terrace furtively.)
(Goro)
A garland of the freshest flowers,
A star with rays of gold.
(To the Consul)
And for nothing: only a hundred yen.
If Your Grace will but command me
I have an assortment ...
(B.F. Pinkerton)
(With an air of impatience)
Fetch her, Goro.
(Goro descends and disappears down by the hillside.)
(Sharpless)
What frenzy has taken you?
Are you really smitten?
(B.F. Pinkerton)
I don’t know! I don’t know!
It depends on the degree of cooking!
Love or whim –
I cannot tell.
Certainly this woman has ensnared me with her sweet ways.
As fragile as fine blown glass,
In stature and bearing
She seems a figure from a screen.
But from her lustrous depths of lacquer
She emerges suddenly;
Like a butterfly she flutters and alights
With such silent grace,
That a craving to pursue her engulfs me –
Even if I must break her wings.