Only make happy
The heart of my beautiful lady,
And I will pardon you, love
If my own heart is not glad.

Her troubles I fear
More than my own troubles,
Because I live more in her
Than I live in myself.

Già il sole dal Gange
Music and Text by Alessandro Scarlatti

Already, from over the Ganges, the sun
Sparkles more brightly
And dries every drop
of the dawn, which weeps.

With the gilded ray
It adorns each blade of grass;
And the stars of the sky
It paints in the field.

Text by Pietro Metastasio