Come pioveva

( Sing: Achille Togliani )
( Authors: A. Gill - Testa - 1918 )

Listen all songs of Achille Togliani

  • Come pioveva - Achille Togliani

 Probably there are some translation errors, forgive me. Suggest Correction

Original


C'eravamo tanto amati
per un anno e forse più,
c'eravamo poi lasciati
non ricordo come fu.

Ma una sera c'incontrammo
per fatal combinazion,
perchè insieme riparammo,
per la pioggia, in un porton.

Elegante nel suo velo,
con un bianco cappellin,
dolci gli occhi suoi di cielo,
sempre mesto il suo visin.

Ed io pensavo ad un sogno lontano,
a una stanzetta d'un ultimo piano,
quando d'inverno al mio cuor si stringeva.
Come pioveva, come pioveva!

"Come stai?" le chiesi a un tratto.
"Bene, grazie", disse, "e tu?".
"Non c'e' male" e poi distratto:
"Guarda che acqua viene giù!".

"Che m'importa se mi bagno,
tanto a casa debbo andar".
"Ho l'ombrello, t'accompagno".
"Grazie, non ti disturbar".

Passa a tempo una vettura,
io la chiamo, lei fa: "no",
dico: "Via, senza paura,
su montiamo", e lei montò.

Così pian piano io le presi la mano
mentre il pensiero vagava lontano,
quando d'inverno al mio cuor si stringeva.
Come pioveva, come pioveva!

Ma il ricordo del passato
fu per lei il più gran dolor,
perchè al mondo aveva dato
la bellezza ed il candor.

Così quando al suo portone
un sorriso mi abbozzò,
nei begli occhi di passione
una lagrima spuntò.

Io non l'ho più riveduta,
se è felice chi lo sa!
Ma se è ricca, o se è perduta,
ella ognor rimpiangerà:

Quando una sera in un sogno lontano
nella vettura io le presi la mano,
quando salvare ella ancor si poteva!
Come pioveva...così piangeva!

Translation


We loved each other so much
for a year or maybe longer
then we broke up
I don't remember how it happened.

One evening we met
in a fatal coincidence,
for we both hid
from the rain under a door

She looked elegant under her veil,
with a tiny white hat
her sweet eyes were the colour of the sky
her face was constantly mournful.

And I would think about a faraway dream,
about a small room on the top floor
when in the winter she would hold me, close to my heart.
How it was raining, how it was raining!

"How do you do?" I asked her, at some point.
"Fine, thanks" She said "and you?".
"Not bad" and then, casually:
"Look how it's pouring down!".

"What matters if I get wet,
I just have to head home anyway".
"I have an umbrella, I can escort you".
"Thank you, don't go to the trouble".

A taxi passes by at some point,
I stop it, she says: "no",
I say: "Come on, don't worry
let's hop on", and she did.

So slowly I took her hand
as my thought were running far,
when in the winter she would hold me, close to my heart.
How it was raining, how it was raining!

But the memory of the past
caused her the biggest pain,
for she had given the world
beauty and purity.

So when, by her door,
she hinted at a smile,
in her beautiful passionate eyes
a tear appeared.

I haven't seen her since,
I don't know whether she is happy
But whether she is rich, or lost,
she will nonetheless regret:

When, an evening, in a faraway dream
in the car I took her hand,
when she still could have saved herself!
How much it was raining... so crying!


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