Grandmother!
Our sage of our grandmother gathered us
Beneath the big oak tree
On a very beautiful night
She began to sing:
Born to gain or Born to suffer
Born to gain or Born to suffer

She began to utter to us:
Great men are sons of good men
Whose hearts are walls
Weak men are sons of women
Whose hearts are drains

I tell you
That souls of the weak mesmerizes for warmth
Not to strode on the path
between mighty lands
They always seek for a gesture of fulfilment
But their hands are always in between
their plump thighs

Born to gain or Born to suffer
Born to gain or Born to suffer

Souls of the great search
Go around and around in search for a pursuit
They too know, of glad tidings
Of grand merriment, and sleep
However, they know glad tidings
come at night, when the work is done

My little ones
Which one are you?
A weak soul or a great soul?
Whatever road you take, there shall be an end.

Born to gain or Born to suffer
Born to gain or Born to suffer

Grandmother said:
Someday, somewhere, somehow,
the soul shall find rest in the hands of its maker

Born to gain or Born to suffer
Born to gain or Born to suffer

 
Link to the Italian translation