From a scintillating star he will signal me to come, by a light of eternity when he calls me I will go. To ask him for that child that I lost with his death, that with Nonino he went... When he tells me come here... I'll be reborn ... because... I am...! the root of the country that modeled with its clay, I am...! blood and skin, of that Italian who gave me his seed... Good-bye Nonino...how long the road will be without you Pain, sadness, the table and the bread...! and my good-bye...Ay...! my good-bye, to your love, your tobacco, your wine. Who, without pity, took half of me, when taking you Nonino....? Perhaps one day, I also looking back... will say as you, good-bye... no more bets...! And today my old Nonino is a part of nature. He is the light, the wind, and the river... this torrent within me replaces him, extending in me his challenge. I perpetuate myself in his blood, I know. And anticipate in my voice, his own echo. This voice that once sounded hollow to me when I said good-bye... Good-bye Nonino. I am...! the root of the country that modeled with its clay, I am...! blood and skin, of that Italian who gave me his seed... Good-bye Nonino... you left your sun in my destiny. your fearless ardor, your creed of love. And that eagerness...Ah..! your eagerness, for seeding the road with hope. I am your honeycomb and this drop of sunlight that today cries for you Nonino perhaps the day when my string is cut I will see you and I will know there is no end.