Paroles et traduction Massimo Ranieri - Lacreme napulitane

Lacreme napulitane

Mia cara madre,
Sta pe′ trasí Natale,
E a stá luntano cchiù mme sape amaro
Comme vurría appiccia' duje o tre biangale
Comme vurría sentí nu zampugnaro!
A ′e ninne mieje facitele 'o presebbio
E a tavula mettite 'o piatto mio
Facite, quann′è ′a sera d"a Vigilia
Comme si 'mmiez′a vuje stesse pur'io
E nce ne costa lacreme st′America
A nuje Napulitane!
Pe' nuje ca ce chiagnimmo ′o cielo 'e Napule,
Comm'è amaro stu ppane!
Mia cara madre,
Che só, che só ′e denare?
Pe′ chi se chiagne 'a Patria, nun só niente!
Mo tengo quacche dollaro, e mme pare
Ca nun só′ stato maje tanto pezzente!
Mme sonno tutt"e nnotte 'a casa mia
E d"e ccriature meje ne sento ′a voce
Ma a vuje ve sonno comm'a na "Maria"
Cu ′e spade 'mpietto, 'nnanz′ô figlio ′ncroce!
E nce ne costa lacreme st'America
A nuje Napulitane!
Pe′ nuje ca ce chiagnimmo 'o cielo ′e Napule,
Comm'è amaro stu ppane!
Mm′avite scritto
Ch'Assuntulella chiamma
Chi ll'ha lassata e sta luntana ancora
Che v′aggi"a dí? Si ′e figlie vònno 'a mamma,
Facítela turná chella "signora".
Io no, nun torno... mme ne resto fore
E resto a faticá pe′ tuttuquante.
I', ch′aggio perzo casa, Patria e onore,
I só carne 'e maciello: Só emigrante!
E nce ne costa lacreme st′America
A nuje Napulitane!
Pe' nuje ca ce chiagnimmo 'o cielo ′e Napule,
Comm′è amaro stu ppane!

Lacreme napulitane

My dearest mother,
Christmas is fast approaching,
And being so far away makes it feel all the more bitter
How I wish I could light a few candles
How I wish I could hear the sound of bagpipes!
Make a crib for my children
And place my plate at the table
When Christmas Eve comes
Pretend that I am there with you
And this place, America, brings tears to our eyes
For us, Neapolitans!
For us, who weep for the sky of Naples,
How bitter this bread is!
My dearest mother,
What use is money?
For those who yearn for their homeland, it is nothing!
I have a few dollars now, but it feels
As if I have never been so poor!
I dream of my home every night
And I can hear my children's voices
But to you, I am like a "Mary"
With swords piercing her heart, standing before her crucified son!
And this place, America, brings tears to our eyes
For us, Neapolitans!
For us, who weep for the sky of Naples,
How bitter this bread is!
You wrote to me
That Assuntulella is calling out
For the one who left her and is still far away
What can I say? If your daughters want their mother,
Let that "lady" return.
Not me, I will not return... I will stay away
And I will continue to work hard for all of you.
I, who have lost my home, my country, and my honor,
I am just a piece of meat: I am an immigrant!
And this place, America, brings tears to our eyes
For us, Neapolitans!
For us, who weep for the sky of Naples,
How bitter this bread is!