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The famous
neapolitans

Eduardo
De Filippo

(24 may 1900 -
31 oct 1984)

An Italian playwright, actor, screenwriter and director, author of many dramatic works.

The Neapolitan
instruments

The putipù

Texts of the neapolitan songs

ENG
ITA
RUS

'A casa 'e donn'Amalia


Museca: Umberto Mazzone,

Vierse: Alfonso Fiordelisi.

Anno: 1907

The house of donna Amalia


Music: Umberto Mazzone,

Lyrics: Alfonso Fiordelisi.

Year: 1907

Donn'Amà,
Quann'i' 'mmocco 'sta via,
Quanno guardo 'sta bella fenesta
Addò vuje nce tenite 'na testa
Cu 'na rosa, i' mme sento murì!

Ma si è bella 'a fenesta, cchiù bella
Sarrà 'a casa, donn'Amà, ca tenite
E ogne vota ca passo, credite,
Tengo 'a smania 'e vulerme 'mpezzà!

"Don Gennà, mi scuserete?"
"Non è cosa per la quale!"
"Donn'Amà, si permettete,
I' ve voglio visità".

"Troppo onore, ma 'o ssapite:
I' sò vedova 'a tre anne
E da allora, mme capite,
Maje nisciuno faccio entrà!"

" 'A tre anne?" "Certamente!"
"Maje nisciuno?" "Maje nisciuno!"
"Chest'è forte overamente!
Nun 'o crero, donn'Amà!"

Pe' tre mise ogne ghiuorno passavo
Donn'Amalia 'nzerrata se steva,
I' sperevo, sperevo, sperevo
E donn'Amalia 'ncucciava a dì No!

Ma 'na sera ca steva affacciata
I' dicette: "Donn'Amà, mme credite,
I' mo moro! Don Gennà, che dicite?
Donn'Amà, mme dicite ca Sì!"

Si nce vede quacheduno
Manco 'e sierpe song' asciute.
"Chi sta llà?" "Nun è nisciuno!
E 'mmuccateve, don Gennà!"

Comm'è scuro! "Sò trasuto?"
"Sì trasuto". Nun mme pare.
Mamma mia, mme sò sperduto!
"E addò stongo, donn'Amà?"

"Tu mo staje dint'ô salone".
Chist'è 'o llario ô Mercatiello!
Ccà se corre c' 'o spadone!
"Bonasera, donn'Amà!"

'Na matina donn'Amalia assummaje:
"Che cos'è? Che cos'è t'hê scurdato?"
"Pe' sapè, piccerì, chella strata
Né pecché te faje caro a vedè.

Aggio 'a casa mo' mo' sceriate:
È 'nu specchio, 'nu vero brillante.
Pare proprio 'na casa 'e rignante,
Viene e vire ch'è fatta pe' tte!

Che rispunne?" "Mme scusate!"
"Comme, comme!" "Si nun vengo..."
"Nun sò avvezzo". "Perdonate!
Llà nun saccio ch'aggi' 'a fà!"

"Bella mia,
I' mme sò fatto una sola cammarella".
"Chella casa sarrà bella
Ma pe' mme, pe' mme nun va!

È 'abitudine, capite,
C'è chi veve 'nfaccia ô cato".
"I' mme songo abituato c' 'o bicchiere.
Bonasera, donn'Amà!"

Donna Amalia,
When I go into this street,
When I look at your beautiful window,
Where there's your vase
With a rose, I feel I'm dying!

But if this window is beautiful,
Will be beautiful the house where you live
And every time when I pass by, believe me,
I have the wish to enter!

"Don Gennaro, do you excuse me?"
"It's not the thing to apologize!"
"Donna Amalia, if you let me,
I visit you".

"It's too great honour, but you know,
I'm a widow three years,
And since that time, understand me,
I don't let anyone enter!"

"Three years?" "Of cause!"
"No one?" "No one!"
"It's really hard!
I don't believe it, donna Amalia!"

Three months I passed by every day,
Donna Amalia was closed.
I suffered, I suffered, I suffered
But donna Amalia told me Not!

One evening she looked out of the window.
I said: "Donna Amalia, believe me,
I'm dying! Don Gennaro, what do you say?
Donna Amalia, tell me Yes!"

If somebody sees us,
We pretend there's nothing.
"Who is there?" "There's nobody here!
Everything's alright, don Gennaro!"

It's so dark! "Have I entered?"
"You have entered". I'm not sure.
Mommy, I'm lost!
"Donna Amalia, where am I?"

"You are in a drawing-room now".
It's like a market square!
Here one can cross the swords!
"Good evening, donna Amalia!"

At morning donna Amalia had summed up:
"What? What have you forgotten here?"
"I want only to know why
You like to look at this street.

I have the house, just now cleaned,
It looks like a mirror, a true brilliant,
It seems like a royal house.
Go to see it, 'cause it was made for you!

What is your answer?" "Excuse me!"
"But how, how!" "If I don't go..."
"I'm not accustomed". "I'm sorry!
I don't know what to do there!"

"My beauty,
I've kept for me only small room".
"Your house is beautiful,
But it's not for me!

It's a habit, understand me,
Of who drinks from a bucket* ".
"I've accustomed myself to a glass.
Good evening, donna Amalia!"

перевод

перевод

translated by Natalia Chernega


* it's neapolitan phrase that means that a person has accustomed itself to a loneliness.