L’ OMBRA E PATEME
 
Nasciette vicine Napule, n’coppa chesta’ collina
ca’ tu’ si’ a guarda a’ Procida, me pare na’ pittura
comme te’ n’canta st’uocchie, pare na’ cartulina
pare e vede’ Natale, cu’ o presepio e cu’ e pasture
 
M’hanna purtate America, mo’ stonghe a Brukulino
ma ogni’anno aggia turna’ a stu’ paese mio
o core me’ se’ m’briaca, senza bevere vino
e torno o Monte e Procida, cu’ tanta nustalguia
 
Aggiu’ perdute a pateme, cu’ chistu bruttu male
e mo’ stu’ palazzo o Monte, u veche sule a fore
mamma vede l’ombra soia, ca’ sagliene sti’ scale
e nun ce’ vo’ ghi chiu’, pecche’ le spacca o core
 
Doppe tutta sta’ fatica, e tutto chist’ammore
simme arrimmaste sule, cu’ senza nu’ surriso
chi e sape chi’ mu jenghe , stu’ fuosse rinte o core
mo sule hamma aspetta’ si’ o vedimme m’paravise
 

di: Antonio De Girolamo

MY FATHER’S SHADOW
 
I was born near Naples on top of a hill
that if you see from Procida looks like a painting
It enchants my eyes , looks like a post card
of a Christmas scene , with the manger and Shepard
 
They brought me to America now I’m in Brooklyn
but ever year I have to return to my home tow
my heart feels drunk without drinking wine
and I return to Monte di Procida with so much nostalgia
 
I lost my father with this damned bad illness
and now this villa on the hill, I just watch it from outside
my mother sees my fathers shadow walking up the steps
and never wants to return there, because it breaks her heart
 
After all this work and all this love for him
now we are left alone, and without a smile
who knows who will fill , this hole in my heart
now we just have to wait, if we see him in heaven
 

by: Antonio De Girolamo