"At the foot of the mystic Gargano,
whispering with thick tall oak groves,
stands Sansevero in its vast plain
surrounded by the green of vineyards.
City ardent with human labor
and harsh struggles; now it passes quiet days
now tumultuous. The wheat waves in May;
the trembling olive groves with silvery foliage.
The vine-laden vine grows flourishing,
immense treasure for the industrious people,
in the soil so fertile and sunny.
It burns in summer, but is mild in winter.
The Candelaro flows winding and slow...
Hail, hail, city of my heart!"
Created by d'Araprì