Andrea Bocelli - Ah, la paterna mano

Tekst :

O figli, o figlio miei!
Da quel tiranno tutti uccisi voi foste,
e insiem con voi la madre
sventurata!
Ah, fra gli artigli di quel tigre
Io lasciai la madre e i figli?

Ah, la paterna mano non vi fu scudo,
o cari,
Dai perfidi sicari che a morte
vi ferîr!
E me fuggiasco, occulto voi
chiamavate invano
Coll ultimo singulto, coll ultio respir.
Ah! trammi al tiranno in faccia,
Signore, e s ei mi sfugge
Possa a colui le braccia del tuo
perdono aprir.

Inne utwory

  • Come un bel di di maggio
  • Your words
  • Somos novios
  • Canzoni stonate
  • Un canto
  • Rapsodia
  • Caruso
  • Cuando me enamoro
  • Miserere
  • Mi manchi
  • Momentos
  • Cielo e mar
  • Vivere
  • Mai piu cosi lontano
  • Pero te extrano
  • Time to say goodbye
  • Someone like you

    • Losowe utwory

    Ancient history

    I ll build you a temple... (x3)

    How
    How did it ever get to this
    We were the perfect kiss
    Then there was a battle far from home and you
    You sent somebody else to say
    You were gonna go away
    And...

    Three simple words

    Open up my eyes, flooded with daylight
    Another sleepless night turns color black and white
    With all the things I ve said
    There is just regret, repeating in my head

    Hands into a fist, static in my head
    Now I m sitting face to...

    Breakfast after ten

    White kitchen walls with a thousand windows.
    You turn on Winston in the den.
    I m still asleep but I can hear the piano,
    When you make breakfast after ten.

    And I smell the coffee on your fingers.
    I still smell the perfume in...

    Black nigga killa

    (Chorus X4)
    YEAH!
    Black niggaaaaaaaaaa
    YEAH!
    Killa killa killa killa

    Black nigga killa hate brought death
    Around the block as I holler points bust though the punks back
    Raising gang, feel no pain, as I penetrate
    Niggas fly deep as I...

    Na bielutkim piasku

    Rolnik orze w pocie czoła
    nic powstrzymać go nie zdoła.
    Hutnik leje w piec metale
    żar podsyca wciąż wytrwale.
    Górnik węgiel w taczkę sypie
    ze zmęczenia okiem łypie.

    Każdy robi co należy bo w marzeniach już tam leży, leży, leży

    Na bielutkim piasku plaży
    Gdzie słoneczko mocno praży
    Polski ród roboczy marzy
    I na grilu szynkę...