Nomadi — Mediterraneo song lyrics and translation
The page contains the lyrics and English translation of the song "Mediterraneo" by Nomadi.
Lyrics
Se tu sei serena con lui, non lo tradire mai,
questo enorme spirito d’acqua, che illumina i marinai,
dove il mare annuncia roccia, e la roccia annuncia altro mare,
quella roccia soltanto un’isola, dove poter sostare,
popolazioni millenarie, son passate di qua,
sopra un cargo, a difendere, la loro dignit,
ed il signore, di pelle scura, Principe dei Bordoni
ha ancora addosso, sull’armatura,
l’odore dei limoni, l’odore dei limoni,
Mediterraneo, Mediterraneo, Mediterraneo, Mediterraneo.
Se sarai fedele a lui, lui ti accompagner,
lungo il corso della tua vita, tra penisole e citt,
tra la gioia e la sconfitta, la vittoria ed il dolore
il tuo corpo avr il suo fascino la tua pelle porter il suo odore,
e su da Tangheri, a Gibilterra, tra i continenti, il mare,
e l’Atlantico, falso ed immobile, si sogna di rubare
e quante storie celano i porti, dietro alle case bianche,
di pescatori, di fibra dura,
quasi in odore d’Oriente, quasi in odore d’Oriente…
Mediterraneo, Mediterraneo, Mediterraneo, Mediterraneo,
Mediterraneo, Mediterraneo, Mediterraneo, Mediterraneo.
Lyrics translation
If you are serene with him, never betray him,
this huge water spirit, which enlightens sailors,
where the sea heralds rock, and the rock heralds other sea,
that rock is just an island, where to stay,
millennial populations, have passed this way,
over a cargo, to defend, their dignity,
and the Lord, dark-skinned, Prince of the Bordoni
he's still on his armor.,
the smell of lemons, the smell of lemons,
Mediterranean, Mediterranean, Mediterranean, Mediterranean.
If you will be faithful to him, he will accompany you,
along the course of your life, between Peninsulas and cities,
between joy and defeat, victory and pain
your body will have its charm your skin will bring its smell,
and up from Tangheri, to Gibraltar, between the continents, the sea,
and the Atlantic, false and motionless, you dream of stealing
and how many stories hide the ports, behind the White Houses,
of hard fibre,
almost in the smell of the East, almost in the smell of the East…
Mediterranean, Mediterranean, Mediterranean, Mediterranean,
Mediterranean, Mediterranean, Mediterranean, Mediterranean.