Francesco De Gregori — Signora aquilone song lyrics and translation
The page contains the lyrics and English translation of the song "Signora aquilone" by Francesco De Gregori.
Lyrics
C’era una donna, l’unica che ho avuto,
aveva i seni piccoli e il cuore muto,
n in cielo, n in terra, una casa possedeva,
sotto un albero verde dolcemente viveva,
sotto un albero verde dolcemente viveva.
Legato ai suoi fianchi con un filo d’argento,
un vecchio aquilone la portava nel vento
e lei lo seguiva senza fare domande
perch il vento era amico e il cielo era grande,
perch il vento era amico ed il cielo era grande.
Io le dissi ridendo «Ma Signora Aquilone
non le sembra un pІ idiota questa sua occupazione?».
Lei mi prese la mano e mi disse «Chiss,
forse in fondo a quel filo c' la mia libert,
forse in fondo a quel filo c' la mia libert «.
E cos¬ me ne andai che ero un poco pi№ saggio
con tre soldi di dubbio e due di coraggio
e incontrai un ubriacone travestito da santo
che ogni sera si ubriacava bevendo il proprio pianto,
che ogni sera si ubriacava bevendo il proprio pianto.
E mi feci vicino e gli chiesi perdono
ma volevo sapere se il suo pianto era buono.
Lui mi disse «Fratello, antico come Dio,
ma pi№ dolce del vino perch l’ho fatto io,
ma pi№ dolce del vino perch l’ho fatto io».
E prima che le stelle diventassero lacrime
e prima che le lacrime diventassero stelle
ho scritto canzoni per tutti i dolori
e forse questa qui non delle migliori, e forse
questa qui non delle migliori.
Lyrics translation
There was a woman, the only one I had,
she had small breasts and a dumb heart,
N in heaven, N in Earth, a house possessed,
under a green tree gently lived,
under a green tree gently lived.
Tied to his hips with a silver thread,
an old kite carried her in the wind
and she followed him with no questions asked
because the wind was friendly and the sky was great,
because the wind was friendly and the sky was great.
I told her laughing " but Mrs. Kite
don't you think this occupation of yours is more idiotic?».
She took my hand and said, " Who knows?,
maybe at the bottom of that thread is my freedom.,
maybe at the bottom of that thread is my freedom."
And so I left that I was a little more wise№
with three money of doubt and two of courage
and I met a drunkard disguised as a saint
that every night he got drunk drinking his own cry,
that every night he got drunk drinking his own cry.
And I stood by him and asked him forgiveness
but I wanted to know if his crying was good.
He said to me, "brother, old as God,
but more№ sweet wine because I did it myself,
but more№ sweet wine because I made it myself".
And before the stars became tears
and before the tears became stars
I wrote songs for all the sorrows
and maybe this one isn't the best, and maybe
this one's not the best.