Non so più cosa son Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart (1756 - 1791) | Lorenzo Da Ponte (1749 - 1838)
Non so piu cosa son, cosa faccio,
English Translation
I don't know anymore what I am, what I do,
I no longer know who I am, what I do, Now I am on fire, now I am of ice, Each woman changes my color, Each woman makes me tremble.
Or di foco ora sono di ghiaccio, Now on fire, now I am of ice,
Ogni donna cangiar di colore, Every woman changes my color,
Ogni donna mi fa palpitar. Every woman makes me tremble.
Solo ai nomi d'amor di diletto, Just the names of love, of pleasure
Mi si turba, mi s'altera il petto, make me troubled, make me stir in the chest,
E a parlare mi sforza d'amore And to speak it compels me of love
Only by words of the love of delight, I am troubled, my chest is altered And I force myself to speak of love A desire that I cannot explain. I no longer know who I am, what I do, Now I am on fire, now I am of ice, Each woman changes my color, Each woman makes me tremble. I speak of love watching, I speak of love dreaming, Of water, of grass, of fountains, Of an echo, of air, of winds, That the sound of useless words Are taken away with them. And if I have no one to hear me, I speak of love alone!
Un desio ch'io non posso spiegar. a desire which I can not explain.
Non so piu cosa son, cosa faccio, I don't know anymore what I am, what I do,
Or di foco ora sono di ghiaccio, Now on fire, now I am of ice,
Ogni donna cangiar di colore,
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Non so più cosa son Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart (1756 - 1791) | Lorenzo Da Ponte (1749 - 1838)
Every woman changes the color,
Ogni donna mi fa palpitar. Every woman makes me tremble.
Parlo d'amor vegliando, I speak of love while awake,
Parlo d'amor sognando, I speak of love while dreaming,
All'acqua, all'ombra, ai monti To the water, to the shadow, to the mountains
Ai fiori, all'erbe, ai fonti, To the flowers, to the grass, to the fountains,
All'eco, all'aria, ai venti, To the echo, to the air, to the winds,
Che il suon de' vani accenti which the sound of my hopeless words
Portano via con se. take away with them.
E se non ho chi m'oda, And if I do not have one who will listen,
Parlo d'amor con me! I speak of love with myself!
© Copyright www.Lyribox.com | Lyribox 2014 | Bruggart limited • All rights reserved
