Текст и перевод песни Massimo Ranieri - Mmiezz'o Ggrano

Mmiezz'o Ggrano

E 'a sera, sott"o pásteno
D"e mméle annurche, passa
Stu core sempe gióvane
Ca ride e ch'arrepassa...
E 'a luna, pazziánnose
Nu ramo e n'atu ramo,
'Nterra, cu 'e file d'èvera,
Ricama nu ricamo...

Oje Stella, Sté'...ch'aspiette nu signale,
'O ggrano ammaturato è culor d'oro:
E sti capille tuoje só' tale e quale...
E 'o ssaje ca i' mme ne moro,
Si 'mmiez'ô ggrano, nun mm"e ffaje vasá!...

Quanno 'e marite dòrmono,
Stracque 'e fatica ancora,
Ll'ammore, che sta pésole,
Sceglie 'a quartata 'e ll'ora...
St'arille comme cantano
Sott'a 'sta luna chiara!
E comm'addora 'o ccánapa
Pe' tuorno a 'sta pagliara...

Oje Stella, Sté'...ch'aspiette nu signale,
'O ggrano ammaturato è culor d'oro:
E sti capille tuoje só' tale e quale...
E 'o ssaje ca i' mme ne moro,
Si 'mmiez'ô ggrano, nun mm"e ffaje vasá!...

Ma tu nun duorme: è inutile...
Stu core tujo mme sente
Quanno, pe' sott'a ll'albere,
Passo annascostamente...
E ghiésce fore pallida,
Bella comm'a nisciuna...
E 'a luna, zenniánnoce,
Cufféa...'sta 'mpésa 'e luna!...

Oje Stella, Sté'...ch'aspiette nu signale,
'O ggrano ammaturato è culor d'oro:
E sti capille tuoje só' tale e quale...
E 'o ssaje ca i' mme ne moro,
Si 'mmiez'ô ggrano, nun mm"e ffaje vasá!...

Amidst the Wheat

And as dusk falls, under the table
Of almond trees, she passes,
Still a youthful spirit
That smiles and returns...
And the moon, in her wandering,
From one branch to another,
On the ground, with threads of ivy,
Embroiders a tapestry...

Oh Stella, Sté'...why wait for a sign,
The ripe wheat is the color of gold:
And your hair, just like it...
And it knows that I'm dying,
If, amidst the wheat, you don't let me kiss you!...

When husbands are sleeping,
Still weary with work,
Love, that is restless,
Chooses the late hour...
How these nightingales sing
Under this bright moon!
And how fragrant is the hemp
Around this haystack...

Oh Stella, Sté'...why wait for a sign,
The ripe wheat is the color of gold:
And your hair, just like it...
And it knows that I'm dying,
If, amidst the wheat, you don't let me kiss you!...

But you cannot sleep: it's useless...
Your heart can feel mine
When, under the trees,
I walk by stealth...
And you will come out, pale,
Beautiful beyond compare...
And the moon, smiling at us,
Is hiding...'this lunar escapade!...

Oh Stella, Sté'...why wait for a sign,
The ripe wheat is the color of gold:
And your hair, just like it...
And it knows that I'm dying,
If, amidst the wheat, you don't let me kiss you!...