Torero ( Live ) - Renato Carosone перевод на английский

Torero ( Live )

Tu pierde 'o suonno 'ncopp"e giurnalette
E mamme te minaccia
E patete s'arraggia.
Te fanno gira' a' capa sti "fumette,"
Guardannote 'into' 'o specchio
Vuoi fare il Toreador
Comme fanno a Santafe',
Comme fanno ad "Ollivud"
E cu' sta scusa, oi ni, nun studie cchiu'!
Torero
Te si' piazzato 'ncapo stu sombrero,
Dice che si' spagnuolo e nun è overo
Co 'e nacchere 'in t"a sacca vai a balla'
Mescolando 'o bolero e 'o "cha-cha"
Chi vuo' 'mbruglia'?
Torero
Cu' sti basette a' sudamericano
Cu' 'nu sicario avana e 'a cammesella 'e picche'!
Torero!
Torero!
Olè!
Te fatto 'a giacchettella corta, corta,
'O cazunciello astritto
E 'o ricciurillo 'n fronte
Te ride 'a gente areto e nun te 'mporta
Ti senti un Marlon Brando
Che a spasso se ne va
Per le vie di Santafe'
Per le strade di "Ollivud."
E 'a 'nnammurata toia nun te vo' cchiu'!
Torero
Te si' piazzato 'ncapo stu sombrero,
Dice che si' spagnuolo e nun è overo
Co 'e nacchere 'in t"a sacca vai a balla'
Mescolando 'o bolero e 'o "cha-cha"
Chi vuo' 'mbruglia'?
Torero
Cu' sti basette a' sudamericano
Cu' 'nu sicario avana e 'a cammesella 'e picche'!
Torero!
Torero!
Olè!
Torero
E levatillo 'a capa stu sombrero,
Nun sì spagnuolo e nun sì caballero
'Ste nacchere tu nun 'e sai sunà,
'E sti nacchere tu che ne 'a ffà,
Bello 'e mammà?
Torero
Cu' sti basette a' sudamericano,
Cu' stu sicario avana e 'a cammesella 'e picche'!
Torero!
Torero!
Olè!
Olè!

Torero (Live)

You lose sleep over magazine clippings,
And Mama threatens you,
And Papa gets angry.
These "smokes" make your head spin,
Looking at yourself in the mirror,
You want to be a Toreador,
Like they do in Santa Fe,
Like they do in Hollywood.
And with this excuse, honey, you don't study anymore!
Torero,
You've placed this sombrero on your head,
You say you're Spanish, and it's not true.
With castanets in your pocket, you go dancing,
Mixing bolero and cha-cha.
Who are you trying to fool?
Torero,
With those South American sideburns,
With a Havana cigar and a spade-shaped shirt!
Torero!
Torero!
Olè!
You made your jacket short, short,
The tight trousers,
And the little curl on your forehead.
People laugh behind your back, and you don't care.
You feel like Marlon Brando,
Walking around,
Through the streets of Santa Fe,
Through the streets of Hollywood.
And your sweetheart doesn't want you anymore!
Torero,
You've placed this sombrero on your head,
You say you're Spanish, and it's not true.
With castanets in your pocket, you go dancing,
Mixing bolero and cha-cha.
Who are you trying to fool?
Torero,
With those South American sideburns,
With a Havana cigar and a spade-shaped shirt!
Torero!
Torero!
Olè!
Torero,
Take off that sombrero,
You're not Spanish, and you're not a gentleman.
You don't know how to play those castanets,
What are you doing with those castanets,
Mama's boy?
Torero,
With those South American sideburns,
With that Havana cigar and a spade-shaped shirt!
Torero!
Torero!
Olè!
Olè!