| O CAPTAIN! My Captain! Our fearful trip is
done; The ship has weather’d every rack, the prize we sought is won; The port is near, the bells I hear, the people all exulting, While follow eyes the steady keel, the vessel grim and daring: But O heart! heart! heart! O the bleeding drops of red, Where on the deck my Captain lies, Fallen cold and dead. O Captain! my Captain! rise up and hear the bells; Rise up—for you the flag is flung—for you the bugle trills; For you bouquets and ribbon’d wreaths—for you the shores a-crowding; For you they call, the swaying mass, their eager faces turning; Here Captain! dear father! This arm beneath your head; It is some dream that on the deck, You’ve fallen cold and dead. My Captain does not answer, his lips are pale and still; My father does not feel my arm, he has no pulse nor will; The ship is anchor’d safe and sound, its voyage closed and done; From fearful trip, the victor ship, comes in with object won; Exult, O shores, and ring, O bells! But I, with mournful tread, Walk the deck my Captain lies, Fallen cold and dead. |
O CAPITANO! Mio
Capitano! Il nostro duro viaggio è finito, la nave ha scapolato ogni tempesta, il premio che cercavamo ottenuto, il porto è vicino, sento le campane, la gente esulta, mentre gli occhi seguono la solida chiglia, il vascello severo e audace: ma, o cuore, cuore, cuore! gocce rosse di sangue dove sul ponte il mio Capitano giace caduto freddo morto. 0 Capitano! Mio Capitano!
alzati a sentire le campane; Il mio Capitano non risponde,
esangui e immobili le sue labbra; |