Texts of the Neapolitan songs

'Sta rosa c'aggio avuto stammatina
Me l'hê mannata tu, chi sà pecché.
M'aggio pugnuto 'o dito cu 'na spina,
Pecché 'sta rosa m'ha parlato 'e te,
Ca pe' capriccio staje luntana 'a mme.

Rosa,
Ritratto tujo c'addora.
Rosa,
Speranza ca nun more.
'Na pugnetura 'e dito niente fa,
Ma 'na pugnuta 'e core, arrassusia,
Me distruggesse tutt' 'a vita mia!

'N'amica toja, gentile e rispettosa,
M'ha ditto ca tu chiagne comm' a cchè,
E vvuò cercà perdono cu 'sta rosa
Ca stammatina m'hê mannato a mme.
E torna, ammore, io moro senza 'e te!

Rosa,
Ritratto tujo c'addora.
Rosa,
Speranza ca nun more.
'Na pugnetura 'e dito niente fa,
Ma 'na pugnuta 'e core, arrassusia,
Me distruggesse tutt' 'a vita mia!

Ammore mio!

This rose I got this morning
It was sent by you, who knows why.
I pricked my finger with its thorn,
Because this rose told me about you
That for your whim you are far away from me.

This rose is
Your portrait that smells.
This rose is
A hope that doesn't die.
This wound on my finger is nothing,
But the wound on my heart, heaven forbid,
Will ruin my whole life!

Your female friend, kind and respectful,
Told me that you cry a lot
And want to ask for forgiveness with this rose
That you sent me this morning.
Come back, my love, I die without you!

This rose is
Your portrait that smells.
This rose is
A hope that doesn't die.
This wound on my finger is nothing,
But the wound on my heart, heaven forbid,
Will ruin my whole life!

My love!