Vangelis and Riccardo Cocciante lyrics - Concerto per Margherita lyrics (English
Riccardo Cocciante (Riccardo Vincent Cocciante),
also known as Richard Cocciante (born February 20, 1946), is an Italian
singer-songwriter and composer.
He recorded in Italian, French, and Spanish; he has recorded some of his songs
in all three languages.
His first single was released in 1968 "So di una donna" / "Due come noi"
His first album "Mu" was released in 1972.
Lyrics and music by Luberti and Cocciante
Arrangement by Vangelis.
Engineers: Vangelis and Keith Allen.
Cover: "Les Styriennes" (painting by Bernhard Grisel)
Copyright owned by: BMG / Ariola.
Lyrics translated into English by Ugo Coppola.
What is there so beautiful in an
What is there so beautiful in a dried-up rose?
It's that, in spite of all a rose is always a rose;
it's that, in spite of all, it's for you.
What is there so beautiful in a disappointing life?
|What is there so
beautiful in a boring life?
It's that, in spite of all, it's my life;
it's that, in spite of all,
I'll live ...........................
|I cannot stay here
with my hands in my hands,
there's so many things I must do
before tomorrow comes...
And if she is already sleeping,
I cannot rest at all;
I'll do such things, that, when she wakes up,
she won't forget me anymore.
And to make this long night
not blacker than black,
make yourself big, sweet Moon,
and fill the whole sky...
And for her bright smile
to come back again,
shine, Sun, tomorrow morning,
like you never did before...
Then, to make her sing
the songs she has learned,
I will build for her a silence
that nobody ever heard...
I'll turn off all of her lovers,
I'll talk for hours and hours,
let's close in a stronger embrace
because she wants love.
Then let's run through the streets
and let's start dancing,
because she wants joy,
because she hates sadness;
then, with colored paint buckets,
let's paint all the walls
of homes, alleys and palaces,
because she loves colors;
|let's pick up all
that Spring can give us,
let's build a cradle for her,
to love each other when evening falls.
Then let's climb to the sky
and catch a star for her,
because Margherita is good,
because Margherita is beautiful;
because Margherita is sweet,
because Margherita is real,
because Margherita loves
and she does it for a whole night;
because Margherita is a dream,
because Margherita is life's salt,
because Margherita is the wind
and she doesn't know she can hurt;
because Margherita is everything
and she is my craze;
Margherita now is mine.
Margherita is mine...
|I've seen many
sitting on the riverside;
"you have no constancy, you're good for nothing"
my father said, there on the stream;
he wore his hat on white hair,
he rowed strongly in a shirt full of sweat.
"Just let him go, you're too impatient"
my mother said, there on the stream,
her reclined head, her distant gaze,
she prayed and she cried thinking she was a saint,
and the river ran and the boat was old,
they went further over the stream.
And all of a sudden the dearest friend
swimming fast but against the current,
and his teeth are whiter for a large smile,
or maybe it is only an angry frown,
while clutching a long knife's blade,
or it is a feather wither than a bird's,
and he asked: "why don't you dive in, brother".
|She wore her hair
inside a napkin,
and the woods laughed from within her eyes,
she moved her hands caressing her thoughts
while I was imprisoning her warden;
on her white body, a valley of peace,
a straw fire burning forever;
I was violating her heat, not yet burned,
and I was not listening to her sweet prayer:
"You won't find nothing if you look into the river,
you'll only see your face in a reflection."
Her hand moves in a slight wave,
but I, desperate, am not staying this time.
|And you'll let me
in your home
to remove me from winter,
you'll welcome me under your roof
to remove me from the night,
and you will give me your blanket
to remove me from the cold,
you'll bring me near the fire
to heat me up.
And you'll give me pure water
to quench my thirst,
and you'll give me hot bread
to satisfy my hunger, and you'll untie your hair
to make me stay,
you will lay on your bed
to unchain my heart.
| And it's for
that I am about to return
and there is nothing else,
nothing else to understand,
and these are all the things that I have
And I'll draw valleys across your body,
plugging it like it was ground,
I'll erase those marks,
from your last war.
And I'll burn with fire
this bad weed of yours,
and I will make you, with water,
more fertile and more alive.
And I'll pray for the sun
to dry up these tears,
and I'll pray for time
to heal your wounds.
Then I'll build a greenhouse around your smile,
I will make out of your life
I will be your farmer
ad you will be my ground,
I'll fight with the wind
to not carry you away from me.
Then I'll sprinkle my seeds
in your green valley
ad we will wait together
for Spring to come,
for Spring to come.
| While the moon
mirrored itself into the ditch,
he ripped and torn your clothes from you,
and he threw you laying on the ground,
and he didn't even pull off his trousers.
While the moon was shining far away,
on your mouth there was his rough hand. You wanted to ask him to have
until rest came to save you.
| You had
dreamed so much, with me,
about your first time.
| I wrote your name
on a piece of paper,
I cut and I folded it,
I made a boat out of it,
then I put it on the river
and I saw it leave
and I hoped so much
of seeing it returning;
and now, and now...
Now I have written your name
on a paper bill,
I bought the love
that one can meet on the roads,
I've touched the hands
of many common people and I have hoped so much
of being able to forget you...
and now, and now...
| Now I write
upon everything I see,
and I carve it deeper
with time's blade,
and for every day that passes,
the memory is clearer,
and for every woman that comes
the memory is more bitter,
|When you love
when you really love someone,
when you deeply love someone,
when you only love someone,
everything else is a little, everything else is nothing,
when you love someone.
When you love someone, when you only
you aren't trivial anymore, you aren't common anymore;
and even a word, if only it comes from me,
glides over your lips and becomes a poem.
You can walk, with your eyes inside
right through the walls of our houses,
you can walk straight above the country fields, above a hot sea, above
above a storm, up to who-knows-where,
where the weather is beautiful even when it rains,
where time is everything, where everything is nothing,
living in the wind, your mind inside her mind.
| You can
imagine you're children,
even when time slips away from your hands,
go on together, even in another life,
even when this life will be over.
When you love someone, when you
deeply love someone,
you can see beauty even in this world,
even in this world, even in this world.
|When you'll go away
from here you'll have flowers on your door
and flags on your balcony and a carpet on the stairs,
yellow as the sun is, and a long procession
to sing you a song when you'll go away from here.
When I'll go away from here I want
this song of mine,
clothes hanging from the balcony and a carpet on the stairs,
with sheets from newspapers and a woman with a cross,
a few friends without peace when I'll go away from here
When you'll go away from here your
journey will be long, to give you more
courage, horses will pull you
and they'll be the six most beautiful ones, then, when you left,
you will be forgotten when you'll go away from here.
| When I'll go
away from here on my last journey,
I won't need any courage, I just want a wheel cart,
and a slim and lonely female dog, but there's one thing that consoles me:
when I'll have left, I don't want anyone to forget me
when I'll go away from here.
In spite of all....
nanana nanana nanana nanana nanana nanana ....
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Riccardo Cocciante - Concerto per Margherita lyrics
English translation by: Ugo Coppola
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