Mario Castelnuovo — Il miracolo song lyrics and translation

The page contains the lyrics and English translation of the song "Il miracolo" by Mario Castelnuovo.

Lyrics

C’era un paese in creta,
con un tramonto raro,
con una chiesa e tanti uccelli bianchi intorno
e un sagrestano nero…
che in un giorno di sete grossa
scolo un secchio di vino,
e serv messa come fosse un deltaplano,
un deltaplano nero
E non aspettavano altro,
e durante l’Eucarestia la gente l’ha menato
e gli ha sputato in una mano, e in bocca un foglio di via
Ed partito, Nero, la notte di natale,
piazzato in fondo al treno
che non sa dove andare e, comunque, lui non ci vuole andare
E la mattina di festa, guarda che successo stanotte…
tutti davanti allo specchio… e Cristo…
sono diventati neri davvero tutti,
uomini e signore,
e chissa che sortilegio li avra fatti abbronzare…
E i paesani, neri, tutti in fila in lavanderia,
ma dopo la ventesima centrifuga quel nero l non va via…
Oddio che giorno abbietto quel giorno di Natale,
e la neve che dispetto che fo, che a bianca da abbagliare…
Oddio che arriva il treno con tutti i giornalisti,
e a bello da lontano, che c' il presepio vero,
un bel presepio nero…
Furono giorni scuri, furono uccelli amari,
con gli occhi e i denti chiari…
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Lyrics translation

There was a village in Crete,
with a rare sunset,
with a church and many white birds around
and a black sacrestan…
that on a day of heavy thirst
drain a bucket of wine,
and serve as a hang glider,
a black hang glider
And they expected nothing else,
and during the Eucharist people brought him
and he spat in his hand, and in his mouth a leaf of the way
Ed party, Black, Christmas night,
placed at the bottom of the train
that he does not know where to go and, anyway, he does not want to go there
And on the festive morning, look what happened tonight…
everyone in front of the mirror ... and Christ…
they all really went black.,
men and ladies,
and who knows what spell has made them Tan…
And the villagers, black, all lined up in the laundry room,
but after the twentieth centrifuge that black L does not go away…
God what a day I have that Christmas Day,
and the snow that I despise that fo, that to white to dazzle…
Oh, my God, the train arrives with all the reporters.,
and to bello from afar, that there ' the real crib,
a beautiful black crib…
They were dark days, they were bitter birds,
with clear eyes and teeth…
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