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Between Tupino river and the water coming down
Blessed Ubaldo's chosen hill
A fertile coast from a high mountain hangs
Where Perugia is cold and hot
From Porta Sole, and behind it cries
For a great burden, Nocera con Gualdo
Of this coast, where it gets less steep
A Sun was born to the world
As sometimes it does the Ganges.
But not to talk too bad
Francis and Poverty are lovers
I mean in all the talking
Their concord and their nice looks
Love and wonder and sweet glances
Gave them reason to be holy
As for that, the worshipful Bernard
Took his shoes off, and beyond the peace
He ran, and running, he thought he'd be late
The cowardice won't make him lower his eyes
Being Pietro Bernardone's son
Nor being humble, which made the others feel amazed
But regally his Rule
He explained to Innocenzio, and from him he had
His first seal to his Order.
But people grew poor
Behind him, whose admirable life
In the sky's glory would be sung.
And then, for his own martyrdoom's thirst
Standing in fron of the Sultan
He preached Christ and his disciples.
In the mount between Tevere and Arno
Christ gavw him his last seal.
When God, who destined him to a greater good,
Wanted him back to Hin
Rewarding him for being poor
To his brothers, as heirs.
Recommended his most beloved woman (the Poverty)
And told them to love her and to be faithful
And from Poverty's womb, his soul
Moved, coming back to his kingdom
And for his body no more grave he wanted.
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