a monologue by my nonna

Ah mamma mia.
Death won’t come to me.
I’m ready.
And instead I’m suffering.
Why won’t it come?
I could be with my husband. My mother.
Mamma mia.
It’s not coming my way. It’s not coming for nothing.
Because what I have it doesn’t want. I have nothing for it.
It’s right here and it doesn’t want me.
Mamma mia.
I can’t do it anymore. I’m done.
I’m ready and it goes away.
Ah mamma mia.
When I see my mother again I’m going to get mad at her.
I’m going to say “why didn’t you come for me?”
Mamma mia.
I have to go home. I’ll pay a good price for it not to pass over me again.
Look here (pointing).
It’s here.

(translated into English by me --m.)

~
Music to my ears: Clint Mansell - The Fountain OST