Questi Figli - remastered 2007 - Gianni Morandi перевод на английский

Questi Figli - remastered 2007

Questi figli, questi figli
Dove andranno mai
Tanta fretta nelle gambe
E sempre dentro ai guai
Questi figli, questi figli
Gomma ai denti e poi
Jeans di moda e mani in tasca
Musica e bignè

Ma che figli questi figli
Troppa libertà
Sempre zitti tristi allegri
E chi li capirà
Quanti affanni questi figli
E privazioni a noi
Con gli amici e amore in testa
Non li fermi mai

Che ora abbiamo fatto
Non fa bene pensare
In fondo a modo loro
Mi tengono nel cuore
Ma se spengo la luce
Sto lì a rimuginare
Gesù fammi dormire
Domani a lavorare

Questi figli senza sbagli
Gridano coi no
No ai divieti, no ai consigli
Ti sparano le idee
Tutti uguali questi figli
Sudano ironia
Soldi e sabati all'ingrosso
Per schizzare via

Che ora abbiamo fatto
Non fa bene pensare
In fondo a modo loro
Mi tengono nel cuore
Chissà poi io com'ero
Oh mamma mia 'sti figli
Gesù fammi dormire
Guai a te se me li togli

These Children - remastered 2007

These children, these children
Where will they ever go?
So much rush in their legs
And always in trouble, you know
These children, these children
Gum in their teeth and then
Fashionable jeans and hands in pockets
Music and cream puffs, again and again

But what children, these children
Too much freedom they possess
Always silent, sad, cheerful, I confess
And who will understand their mess?
So many worries, these children bring
And deprivations for us, it would seem
With friends and love on their minds, a flowing stream
You can never stop them, it's like a dream

What time is it, darling?
It's not good to overthink, you see
Deep down, in their own way, they agree
They keep me in their hearts, thankfully
But when I turn off the light, I start to ponder
I lie there, mulling things over and over
Jesus, let me sleep, I discover
Tomorrow, back to work, I have to recover

These children, without fault, they stand tall
They shout their "no's" to the world's call
No to prohibitions, no to advice, they give their all
They shoot down your ideas, like a waterfall
All the same, these children, standing together
They ooze irony, like birds of a feather
Money and Saturdays in bulk, they gather
To dash away, in any kind of weather

What time is it, my love?
It's not good to think too much, you know above
Deep down, in their own way, they show their love
They keep me in their hearts, like a gentle dove
I wonder how I was at their age, way back when
Oh my goodness, these children, again and again
Jesus, let me sleep, until the day begins
Woe to you if you take them away from within