A little song that I wrote for my sister Cristina (wherever she is). Here are the lyrics and a (really bad) English translation.
PASSANO GIORNI
Passano giorni diversi dai tuoi
Coltivano fiori non nuovi non miei
Tingono nuove bandiere ormai
Volano sempre le rondini, sai?
Freddo, fa freddo dinverno quaggiù
Caldo, fa caldo destate, e lassù?
Piove e la pioggia non lava di più
Cambiano solo le nuvole, non tu
Perché le cose hanno un limite loro, lo sai:
angeli e diavoli non son mica eroi;
su ogni cancello si apre una via,
ma una strada bagnata non è ferrovia
Ma quanti sguardi di luna hai lanciato da lì?
Da dove parte la strada che porta sin qui?
Dove finisce linverno con un tempo così?
Come fa a cominciare lestate, come fa, Cristi?
DAYS ARE PASSING
Days are passing and theyre different from yours.
Theyre growing flowers which are not new and that I do not own
Theyre staining new flags now
And swallows are still flying, you know?
Cold, its cold in winter down here
Hot, its hot in summer, and up there?
Its raining, and the rain doesnt wash no more
Clouds are changing, not you
cause things have their own limit, you know
Angels and devils are not heroes at all
Theres a street in front of every gate
But a wet road is not a railway
But how many moon glances are you throwing from there?
Where does the road begin that leads here?
Where does the winter end with a weather like this?
How can the summer begin, how, Cristi?
bellissima... marco... wow
FerroSOAD 2 years ago
Grazie per averla ascoltata. Davvero.
marcoacca 2 years ago
Amazingly moving...Thank you for sharing it with us.
tobestill 2 years ago
Merci. You know that it means a lot to me. Ciao, Marco.
marcoacca 2 years ago
I just had to listen to it again, thanks Marco
Armadante 2 years ago
I think I understand... Thanks for your friendship, again. Ciao, Marco.
marcoacca 2 years ago