Metti un periodo buio, lì senza amore
in cerca di una notte fatta per bere
e fai di tutta la tua vita un bicchiere
e aspetti un'alba che ti porti a dormire.
Ed è malinconia,
ti segue per la via,
ti lascia dopo un'ora,
ma tu sai che torna ancora.
Metti un amico che ora deve partire,
probabilmente non si fa più sentire:
non sai se piangere o provare a scherzare,
non dici niente e hai mille cose da dire.
Ed è malinconia
a farti compagnia,
ti da sempre ragione,
ma in cambio poi chissà che vuole;
ed è malinconia
un'ora che va via
o un anno da scordare,
da soli in fondo ad un locale.
Metti che un giorno all'improvviso per strada
ti chiedi se è soltanto questa la vita,
parli una lingua che per gli altri è sbagliata
anche restando a cento metri da casa.
Ed è malinconia
amica o no che sia
è quello che ti resta
quando il mondo non ti basta;
ed è malinconia
ed è periferia
è l'unica che sente
se stai male veramente.
Metti che adesso, dopo tante parole,
dietro la porta che ti aspetta è l'amore
cosa puoi fare, era già tutto previsto
in fondo è chiaro noi viviamo per questo.
Metti che il mondo per un mese o un istante
di te si scordi quasi completamente,
le sere che a casa, solo da cane
mangi qualcosa tanto per non morire.
Ed è malinconia
di tutti, un po' anche mia
è l'unica che aspetta
quando il tempo va di fretta;
ed è malinconia
con sé ti porta via,
è un treno un po' incantato
che prendi solo se hai sbagliato.
TRANSLATION
Melancholy
Versions: #1#2
Imagine a dark period of life without love
In search for a night created for drinking,
And all your life is a glass,
And you wait for the daybreak to fall asleep.
And this is melancholy,
It accompanies you on the way,
And leaves you after one hour,
But you know that it will return.
Imagine a friend who must leave
And probably, you will never hear about him any more:
You don't know whether to cry or to laugh,
You don't say anything and you have thousand things to say.
And this is melancholy,
It accompanies you,
It gives you right
But in return who knows what it wants.
And this is melancholy, an hour that goes away,
A year which it is necessary to forget
In loneliness with your sadness in a bar.
Imagine that one day you ask in the street:
“Is this life only one?”
You speak a language which others don't understand.
Even staying in one meter away from your house.
This is melancholy
Is it a friend or not?
It is what is left for you
When the world is not enough for you.
And this is melancholy,
This is extremety,
This is the only what you feel
If you are really not well.
Now, after so many words, imagine:
Love is waiting for you behind the door.
It's what you can do,
All is already foreseen.
It's clear deep inside
That we live for this.
Imagine the world for a month or just for a moment,
It almost forgot about you,
In the evenings at home I am lonely as a dog,
I eat something just not to die
And this is melancholy of everyone
And also a bit mine,
It is the only one that waits
When the time is in hurry.
And this is melancholy,
It takes you away after itself,
It is a bit bewitched train
Which you take only when you made a mistake.
In search for a night created for drinking,
And all your life is a glass,
And you wait for the daybreak to fall asleep.
And this is melancholy,
It accompanies you on the way,
And leaves you after one hour,
But you know that it will return.
Imagine a friend who must leave
And probably, you will never hear about him any more:
You don't know whether to cry or to laugh,
You don't say anything and you have thousand things to say.
And this is melancholy,
It accompanies you,
It gives you right
But in return who knows what it wants.
And this is melancholy, an hour that goes away,
A year which it is necessary to forget
In loneliness with your sadness in a bar.
Imagine that one day you ask in the street:
“Is this life only one?”
You speak a language which others don't understand.
Even staying in one meter away from your house.
This is melancholy
Is it a friend or not?
It is what is left for you
When the world is not enough for you.
And this is melancholy,
This is extremety,
This is the only what you feel
If you are really not well.
Now, after so many words, imagine:
Love is waiting for you behind the door.
It's what you can do,
All is already foreseen.
It's clear deep inside
That we live for this.
Imagine the world for a month or just for a moment,
It almost forgot about you,
In the evenings at home I am lonely as a dog,
I eat something just not to die
And this is melancholy of everyone
And also a bit mine,
It is the only one that waits
When the time is in hurry.
And this is melancholy,
It takes you away after itself,
It is a bit bewitched train
Which you take only when you made a mistake.
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