Lyrics and translation Lou Monte - Senza Mamma E Nnammurata!

Senza Mamma E Nnammurata!

Sperduto comm'a cane 'mmiez'â via,
Chiagne stu core mio addulurato...
Smuóvete pure tu, Madonna mia,
Pecché na 'nfama sulo mm'ha lassato...
Vurría murí: só' troppo sfurtunato!

Mme pare da vedé cu 'o manto 'e sposa,
Cu 'a vesta janca e 'a faccia culor rosa...
Se 'mmeretava, quann'essa è spusata,
Na botta ô core... chella scellerata!

E, muorto 'e friddo, jètte â casa mia...
Truvaje 'a lampa ô scuro, chella sera...
Cantava na civetta 'mmiez'â via...
E mamma, dinto lietto, ca mureva...
Io mme facette cchiù ghianco da cera!...

E tu redive, 'nfama, pe' dispietto...
Mentre stu core mme sbatteva 'mpietto...
Tu chiena 'e sciure 'arancio... ch'allegria!
Io senza mamma... che malincunia!

Mo ca só' sulo e nun tengo a nisciuno,
Io penzo a mamma mia ô campusanto...
Mme struje nu penziero... stó' dijuno...
Mme faccio 'a croce e mm'ammalisco tanto
Ca st'uocchie mieje se 'nfónnono cchiù 'e chianto...

Mm'arraccumanno a te, Madonna mia,
Primma ca cchiù mm'accresce 'a pecundría...
Si nenna mia e mamma aggiu perduto,
Meglio ca i' moro... troppo aggiu chiagnuto!...

Meglio ca i' moro... troppo aggiu chiagnuto!

Without Mom and Girlfriend!

Lost like a dog in the middle of the street,
My heartbroken cries for relief...
Move, my Madonna,
Because a wicked woman has left me alone...
I wish I was dead: I'm too unlucky!

I seem to see her in a wedding gown,
In a white dress with a rosy face...
She deserved it, when she got married,
A shot to the heart... that evil woman!

And, freezing to death, she went to my house...
She found the lamp in the dark, that night...
An owl was singing in the middle of the street...
And Mother, in bed, dying...
I turned whiter than wax!...

And you come back, wicked, to spite me...
While my heart was beating in my chest...
You full of orange blossoms... such joy!
Me without Mother... how sad!

Now that I'm alone and have no one,
I think of my Mother in the cemetery...
A thought torments me... I'm fasting...
I make the sign of the cross and I get sick so much
That my eyes can't shed any more tears...

I commend myself to you, my Madonna,
Before my misery increases...
If I've lost my darling and my Mother,
I'd be better off dead... I've cried too much!...

I'd be better off dead... I've cried too much!