Count Grassi's Passage Over Piedmont

Below the Po rolls slow from Alps to Adriatic Sea

Blow old bellows, blow, take us where you will

Padua, Genoa, Corsica, Catalonia, oh Segovia

Oh, unfathomable firmament

That we should set a course between the two

Clinging only to our orb of blue and red

Like Romanov's to a Fabergé egg

Push Sisyphus, push, heave our sphere into the heavens

If I'm to die, then let it be in summertime

In a manner of my own choosing

To fall from a great height

On a warm July afternoon

Liverwurst, Battenburg, Emmental, Syllabub, Muscadet

Throw it all away, we need more height

Oh Newton, release this apple from its earthly shackles

And live to fight another day

Go back from whence you came the swallows cry

You've corrupted and befouled the ground you walk upon

And now you come to poison the skies

Please friends, forgive this brief intrusion