Dduie paravise - Roberto Murolo traduction en anglais

Dduie paravise

Duje viecchie prufessure 'e cuncertino
Nu juorno, nun avevano che fá
Pigliájeno 'a chitarra e 'o mandulino
E, 'nParaviso, jèttero a suná

Ttuppe-ttù San Pié, arapite!
Ve vulimmo divertí
Site 'e Napule? Trasite!
E facitece sentí

V'avimm"a fá sentí doje, tre canzone
Ca tutt"o Paraviso ha da cantá
Suspire 'e vase museca 'e passione
Rrobba ca sulo a Napule se fa

E 'a sera, 'nParaviso, se cantaje
E tutt"e Sante jèttero a sentí
'O repertorio nun ferneva maje
Carmela, 'o Sole mio, Maria Marí

Ah, San Pié', chesti ccanzone
Sulo Napule 'e ppò fá
Arapite stu barcone
'A sentite 'sta cittá?

E, sott"o sole e 'a luna, vuje sentite
Sti vvoce, ca só' voce 'e giuventù
E si scennite llá, nun 'o ccredite?
Vuje, 'nParaviso, nun turnate cchiù!

Ma, doppo poco, da 'a malincunía
E viecchie se sentettero 'e pigliá
Suffrévano nu poco 'e nustalgía
E a Napule vulèttero turná

Mo', San Pié', si permettite
Nuje v'avimm"a salutá
Site pazze! Che dicite?
Nun vulite restá ccá?

Nuje simmo 'e nu paese bello e caro
Ca tutto tène e nun se fa lassá
Pusìlleco, Surriento, Marechiaro
'O Paraviso nuosto è chillu llá!

Two Paradises

Two old concert professors, my love,
One day, had nothing to do,
They took their guitar and mandolin,
And went to Paradise to play a tune or two.

Knock-knock, Saint Peter, open up!
We want to entertain you, darling.
Are you from Naples? Come in!
And let us hear your sweet sound.

We'll play you a couple of songs, sweetheart,
That all of Paradise will sing along,
Sighs of vases, music of passion,
Things that only Naples can bring along.

And that evening, in Paradise, there was singing,
And all the Saints came to listen near,
The repertoire never seemed to end,
Carmela, 'O Sole mio, Maria Marí, my dear.

Ah, Saint Peter, these songs, my love,
Only Naples can truly create,
Open this balcony wide,
Can you hear this city's fate?

And, under the sun and moon, you listen, dear,
These voices, they're voices of youth so clear,
And if you come down there, you won't believe,
You won't ever want to return to Paradise, my sweet.

But, after a while, with melancholy's sway,
The old men felt a longing take hold,
They suffered a bit of nostalgia's toll,
And to Naples they wanted to find their way.

Now, Saint Peter, if you'll allow, my dear,
We must bid you farewell, it's clear,
Are you crazy! What are you saying?
Don't you want to stay here?

We are from a beautiful and dear land,
That has everything and won't let go of your hand,
Posillipo, Sorrento, Marechiaro's charm,
Our Paradise is over there, safe from harm!