La corte dei miracoli - Gang traduction en anglais

La corte dei miracoli

Era fame era sete
Erano giorni di carestia
Era la corte dei miracoli
Era l'inverno e la malattia
Era ordine e pulizia
Era il tempio il supermercato
Erano fantasmi che tornavano
Era il futuro surgelato.
Era ancora l'assalto al treno
Era l'imbroglio e la rovina
Era la ruota della fortuna
Era tutto come prima.
Erano in pochi erano in tanti
Era la vecchia dinastia
Era piccola e feroce
Era la nuova borghesia.
Era una sporca camicia nera
Mandata in lavanderia
Era l'uomo dei miracoli
Era di nuovo la nostalgia
Era il telepredicatore
Era il servo e la catena
Era l'inizio era la fine
Era il rogo era la pena.
Era Arcore l'epidemia
Era l'idiota l'ideologia
Era vino che diventa aceto
Era ancora piazzale Loreto
Erano in pochi erano in tanti
Era la vecchia dinastia
Era piccola e feroce
Era la nuova borghesia.
Con Dio dall'altra parte
Era un soldato mandato lontano
Erano le borse dei mercati
Era la notte
Che scendeva piano
Era il feudo e il federale
Era Pontida la capitale
Era il girone dei barattieri
Era la ciurma da tribunale
Era il vuoto e la vertigine
Era il trionfo del carnevale
Era l'ingorgo dei canali
La TV era la cattedrale.
Erano in pochi erano in tanti
Era la vecchia dinastia
Era piccola e feroce
Era la nuova borghesia
Che il vento tristo
Che il vento tristo
Che il vento tristo
Se la porti via...

Court of Miracles

There was hunger, there was thirst
There were days of famine
It was the Court of Miracles
It was winter and disease
It was order and cleanliness
It was the temple, the supermarket
There were ghosts returning
It was a frozen future.
It was still the assault on the train
It was the trickery and the ruin
It was the wheel of fortune
It was all as before.
There were few, there were many
It was the old dynasty
It was small and ferocious
It was the new bourgeoisie.
It was a dirty black shirt
Sent to the laundry
It was the man of miracles
It was nostalgia once again
It was the televangelist
It was the servant and the chain
It was the beginning, it was the end
It was the pyre, it was the punishment.
It was Arcore, the epidemic
It was the idiot, the ideology
It was wine that turns into vinegar
It was still Piazzale Loreto
There were few, there were many
It was the old dynasty
It was small and ferocious
It was the new bourgeoisie.
With God on the other side
It was a soldier sent far away
There were market bags
It was the night
That descended slowly
It was the fief and the federal
Pontida was the capital
It was the circle of barratry
It was the crew in court
It was emptiness and vertigo
It was the triumph of the carnival
It was the congestion of the canals
TV was the cathedral.
There were few, there were many
It was the old dynasty
It was small and ferocious
It was the new bourgeoisie
That the sad wind
That the sad wind
That the sad wind
Takes you away...