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