Voglio ubriacarmi per non pensare

Source: http://thumb2.visualizeus.com/thumbs/08/10/02/
The Song
| http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iIB2_bagvqQ&feature=related |
The cry of the wife of the Greek in Southern Italy that has to emigrate to feed his family. A song in mixed Italian and Greek lingo of Southern Italy.
Writer & composer: Franco Corgliano.
Orchestration: Savvas Savva
Artist: Lenia1
CD: My musical voyages.
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Voglio ubriacarmi per non pensarepiangere e ridere voglio stasera, con grande rabbia io devo cantare alla luna devo gridare:mio marito parte;
Svegliatevi, donne,svegliatevi! Venite a piangere con me! Siamo rimaste sole, la festa di San Brizio è passata e gli uomini se ne vanno uno ad uno!
Gli uomini se ne vanno, stanno partendo! Se andrà bene li rivedremo fra un anno!
Questa è vita, mio Dio?
Vanno in Germania piangendo con dolore! Povera me, poveri quei bambini! Vedono il loro papà una volta all’anno Perché piangi papà? E’ San Brizio!
Senti la banda, senti che bel suono!
Sento la banda e sento questa musica, sto qui con voi ma penso al treno, penseo sto skotinò citti miniera- penso al buio di quella miniera, la dove la gente muore al lavoro! perché devi andare? Dimmi, perché? Perché questa è la vita,poveri ragazzi il poverello lavora e suda per ingrassare i padroni con il suo lavoro! |
I want to get drunk in order not to thinkI want to cry and laugh this evening With great anger I must sing And scream to the moon: my husband leaves!
Wake up, wake up women Come to cry with me We have remained alone, The fest of Saint Brizio has passed And the men go one by one
The men go, are leaving! If all goes well there, We will see each other again in a year! Is this our life? Is this a life, my God?
They go in Germany crying with pain! Poor me, poor these kids They see their father once a year Why do you cry daddy? It’s the fest of Saint Brizio Listen to the band, Listen, what a beautiful sound
I hear the band, I hear this music I am here with you but I think also of the train I am thinking of the darkness of that mine Where working there, the people die -”Daddy why you must go? Tell me why” “Because this is the life, poor kids” The poor one works and sweats In order to fatten up the masters with his job
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March 12th, 2010 at 4:49 pm
Your stuff keeps getting better and better! Your older articles are not as good as newer ones you have a lot more creativity and originality now. Keep it up!