Paroles et traduction Pietra Montecorvino - Comme facette mammeta

Comme facette mammeta

Quanno mámmeta t'ha fatta
Quanno mámmeta t'ha fatta
Vuó' sapé comme facette?
Vuó' sapé comme facette?

Pe' 'mpastá sti ccarne belle
Pe' 'mpastá sti ccarne belle
Tutto chello ca mettette?
Tutto chello ca mettette?

Ciento rose 'ncappucciate
Dint"a mártula mmescate
Latte, rose, rose e latte
Te facette 'ncopp"o fatto!

Nun c'è ogno 'a zingara
P'andiviná, Cuncè'
Comme t'ha fatto mámmeta
'O ssaccio meglio 'e te!

E pe' fá 'sta vocca bella
E pe' fá 'sta vocca bella
Nun servette 'a stessa dose
Nun servette 'a stessa dose

Vuó' sapé che nce mettette?
Vuó' sapé che nce mettette?
Mo te dico tuttecosa
Mo te dico tuttecosa

Nu panaro chino, chino
Tutt"e fravule 'e ciardino
Mèle, zuccaro e cannella
Te 'mpastaje 'sta vocca bella

Nun c'è ogno 'a zingara
P'andiviná, Cuncè'
Comme t'ha fatto mámmeta
'O ssaccio meglio 'e te

E pe' fá sti ttrezze d'oro
E pe' fá sti ttrezze d'oro
Mamma toja s'appezzentette
Mamma toja s'appezzentette

Bella mia, tu qua' muneta!?
Bella mia, tu qua' muneta!?
Vuó' sapé che nce servette?
Vuó' sapé che nce servette?

Na miniera sana sana
Tutta fatta a filagrana
Nce vulette pe' sti ttrezze
Che, a vasá, nun ce sta prezzo!

Nun c'è ogno 'a zingara
P'andiviná, Cuncè'
Comme t'ha fatto mámmeta
'O ssaccio meglio 'e te
Comme t'ha fatto mámmeta
'O ssaccio meglio 'e te

How Mother Made You

When Mother made you
When Mother made you
Do you want to know how she did it?
Do you want to know how she did it?

To knead this beautiful flesh
To knead this beautiful flesh
What did she put in?
What did she put in?

One hundred hooded roses
Mixed into the marble
Milk, roses, roses and milk
She made you in her image!

There is no gypsy's sign
To tell fortunes, Concetta*
How Mother made you
I know it better than you do!

And to make this beautiful mouth
And to make this beautiful mouth
She didn't use the same ingredients
She didn't use the same ingredients

Do you want to know what she put in it?
Do you want to know what she put in it?
I'll tell you everything
I'll tell you everything

A basketful, full to the brim
All the strawberries in the garden
Honey, sugar and cinnamon
She kneaded this beautiful mouth

There is no gypsy's sign
To tell fortunes, Concetta*
How Mother made you
I know it better than you do!

And to make those golden tresses
And to make those golden tresses
Your mother became poor
Your mother became poor

My beauty, what a treasure you are!
My beauty, what a treasure you are!
Do you want to know what she used?
Do you want to know what she used?

A pure gold mine
All made of filigree
She wanted these tresses
To be priceless when kissed!

There is no gypsy's sign
To tell fortunes, Concetta*
How Mother made you
I know it better than you do
How Mother made you
I know it better than you do