Chiddu ca succidiu ora vi cuntu:
Quannu muriu 'u zzu Minicu panzutu
Tutti li so' parenti stritti stritti
Si riuneru e ci tinniru 'u luttu.
Quannu arrivau ddà ni lu Paradisu
Davanti a lu cuspettu di San Petru
Chi si sintiva misiru e pirdutu
E 'n'angileddu ci vinni in aiutu,
L'accumpagnau supra 'na nuvulidda
Ca a taliarla era la cchiù bedda.
Era 'na nuvulidda cu du stanzi,
Una finestra e lu jardinu avanti.

Miatu lu zzu Minicu è scialatu,
Si sistimau e si misi affacciatu.
P'idda finestra si vidiva tuttu,
Puru li so' parenti 'nmezzu a l'uttu.
Tra tutti li parenti ca vidiva
Ci nn'era però una ca mancava:
Era la sò mità ca do duluri
Circava lu cunfortu no cumpari.
Mischinu lu zzu Minicu panzutu,
'Un sulu mortu, ma puru curnutu.
Allura è veru comu rici 'u dittu:
" 'Mara cu mori, cu vivu c'è rizzettu".

Now I'll tell you about what happened:
When chubby Uncle Domenico died,
All his close relatives gathered
And observed the period of mourning.
When he entered Heaven
And stood before Saint Peter,
He felt miserable and lost,
Then a little angel came to his aid
And guided him across a cloud
That was the most beautiful of all.
The cloud had two rooms,
A window, and a front garden.

Blessed Uncle Domenico was content,
He had settled in and looked out the window.
From there, he could see everything —
Even his relatives gathered in the garden below.
But among all the relatives he saw,
One was missing: his wife.
She grew closer to the godfather*,
Pretending it was just about comfort.
Poor chubby Uncle Domenico: he had not only died,
But he had also been made a cuckold.
So the old saying was true:
"To the dead — sorrow, to the living — joy!"

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