New York at duskWhen shadowy sunRests on skyscrapersAnd in the parkIn the cityDragonflies murmurBirds humAs the little gondolaGlides across the silver lakeThat parts between my fingersThe tenor of cheerful chatterFrom the restaurantsThe whispered conversationsOf the couplesOn their sunset rowboat tripsThe swanSplashingPreening its feathersOne by oneAs night comes to the city that never sleepsThe man on the gondolaSings in a resounding baritone“Venite all’agileBarchetta miaSanta LuciaSanta Lucia”“Come to mySwift little boatSanta LuciaSanta Lucia.”