Istituto Italiano di Cultura Toronto presents:
Novecento
Francesco Pellegrino – voice, guitar
Marco Cera – guitar, mandolin, recorder
Lucas Harris – guitar
With Special Guests:
Romina di Gasbarro – voice
Kirk Elliott – violin, accordion, mandolin
Rundinella (1918)
“The Swallow”
Tutte ll'amice mieje sanno ca tuorne,
Ca sì partuta e no ca mm'hê lassato
Sò già tre ghiuorne.
Nisciuno 'nfin'a mo s'è 'mmagginato
Ca tu, crisciuta 'ncopp'ô core mio,
Mm'hê ditto: addio!
E torna, rundinella,
Torna a 'stu nido mo ch'è primmavera!
I' lasso 'a porta aperta quanno è 'a sera
Speranno 'e te truvà vicino a me.
Vulanno pe' città nove e stramane,
Tu no, nun può sapè che te ne vene
Ogge o dimane.
E si nun truove maje chi te vò bbene
Quanto te ne vogl'io,
Ll'amice 'o ssanno,
Che faje vulanno?
E torna, rundinella . . .
Torna! Ll'amice mieje sanno ca tuorne.
Tutte se sò 'nfurmate e a tutte dico:
"Dint'a 'sti juorne".
Uno sultanto, era 'o cchiù buono amico,
Nun ll'aggio visto e nun c'è cchiù venuto.
Fosse partuto?
E torna, rundinella . . .
Napoletano
May 11, 2018 @ 8:00pm
Heliconian Hall, Toronto
Music: Gaetano Spagnolo (?-?)
Words: Rocco Galdieri (1877-1923)
All my friends think that you’re coming back,
that you went away but not that you left me.
It's already been three days.
Until now no one could imagine
that you, having grown up so near to my heart,
would say goodbye to me.
And come back, dear swallow,
come back to this nest now that it's springtime!
I leave the door open in the evening,
hoping to find you close to me.
Flying towards new and distant cities,
you can’t know what might happen to you
today or tomorrow.
And if you never find someone who loves you
as much as I do,
our friends will know it –
so why are you doing flying around?
And come back, swallow . . .
Come back! My friends think you’re coming back.
They all want to know when, and I tell everyone:
"Any day now."
Only one, who was my best friend –
I haven’t seen him and he hasn’t been around.
Maybe he left as well?
And come back, swallow . . .
Io, Mammeta e tu (1955)
“Me, Your Mama and You”
Ti avevo detto, dal primo appuntamento,
'e nun purtá nisciuno appriesso a te.
Invece mo nu frato, na sora, na nepote.
Sola nun staje na vota,
ascimmo sempre a tre.
E mi hai promesso: "Domani chi lo sa,
vengo io soltanto, soltanto con mammá."
Io, mámmeta e tu,
passiammo pe' Tuledo,
nuje annanze e mámmeta arreto.
Io mámmeta e tu,
sempe appriesso,
cose 'e pazze,
chesta vène pure ô viaggio 'e nozze.
Jamm'ô cinema, a abballà,
si cercammo 'e ce 'a squagliá,
comm'a nu carabiniere
chella vène a ce afferrá.
Ah, ah, ah.
Ma, 'nnammurato,
só' rassignato.
Non reagisco più.
Io, mámmeta e tu.
Ma San Gennaro mm'aveva fatto 'a grazia.
Ll'ata matina nun ll'ha fatta aizá.
Teneva ll'uocchie 'e freve,
pareva ca schiattava,
io quase mme credevo
d'ascí sulo cu te.
Nu filo 'e voce, però, truvaje mammá:
"Da 'a piccerella ve faccio accumpagná."
"Io, sòreta e tu,
jamm'ô bar ô Chiatamone:
"Vuó' 'o cuppetto o vuó' 'o spumone?"
"Chello ca costa 'e cchiù."
Pe' ricordo 'e 'sta jurnata,
dint' 'a villa, ce hanno fatt' 'a foto.
Vò' 'o pallone, vò' 'o babbá
nun se fida 'e cammená.
Guardo a essa, guardo 'o mare,
stó' penzanno 'e ce 'a mená.
Ah, ah, ah . . .
Io, sòreta e tu.
Music: Domenico Modugno (1928-1994)
Words: Riccardo Pazzaglia (1926-2006)
I told you, from our first date,
to not bring anyone with you.
Instead, now there’s a brother, a sister, a niece.
We’ve never been alone even once –
we always go out in three.
And you promised me: "Tomorrow who knows,
I’ll come alone – just with my Mom.”
Me, your mama and you,
we walk down via Toledo
us ahead and your mother behind us.
Me, your mama and you,
always with us,
and the most insane thing is
that she even came on our honeymoon.
If we go to the cinema, to a dance,
if we try to break away,
she’s like a cop
who comes to arrest us.
Ah, ah, ah.
But, in love,
I'm resigned.
I don’t protest anymore.
Me, your mama and you.
But Saint Gennaro pitied me:
the other morning he didn’t let her get up:
Her eyes were closed and she had a fever,
it nearly seemed like she was dying,
and I almost believed
I’d get to go out alone with you.
A thread of voice, however, came from your mom:
"I’ll let your little sister go with you."
Me, your sister and you –
if we go to the bar on via Chiatamone:
"Do you want a gelato or a spumone?"
"Whichever costs more!"
To remember this day
in the villa, we had a picture taken.
“I want a ball! I want a pastry!”
We can’t even be trusted to take a walk together.
I look at her, I look at the sea,
and I have thoughts of jumping in.
Ah, ah, ah . . .
Me, your sister and you.
Ammore mio, staje sempe cu 'e pariente,
chesta famiglia mme pare na tribù.
Arrivano 'a Milano,
arrivano 'a ll'Oriente
e tutta chesta gente
sta sempe attuorno a me.
Na vecchia zia ca steva a Cefalù,
venuta ccá, nun se n'è ghiuta cchiù.
Io, zíeta e tu,
poverina, è sofferente,
ogne tanto, nu svenimento.
Io, zíeta e tu,
ll'uovo frisco, 'a muzzarella,
cammenammo sulo in carrozzella.
Stó' pavanno 'a ccá e 'a llà,
'e denare chi mm' 'e ddá?
O te lasso o, fra nu mese,
stó' cercanno 'a caritá.
Ah, ah, ah.
Tu mm'hê 'nguajato,
mme sposo a n'ata,
nun ve veco cchiù.
Mámmeta, sòreta e tu.
Páteto, fráteto e tu.
Nònneta, zíeta e tu.
Páteto, fráteto, nònneta,
sòreta, sòreta, zíeta,
zíeta, páteto, páteto,
fráteto, fráteto, nònneta,
nònneta, páteto, 'o cane.
Scusate giuvinò', io só' 'a bisnonna,
só' turnata proprio mo da 'o 'spitale . . .
Aaaaaaahhhhhh!!!
Torna maggio (1900)
“May Returns”
Rrose, che belli rrose! Torna maggio.
Sentite 'addore 'e chisti sciure belle!
Sentite comme cantano ll'aucielle!
E vuje durmite ancora? Ih, che curaggio!
Aprite 'sta fenesta, oje bella fata,
Ché ll'aria mo s'è fatta 'mbarzamata!
Ma vuje durmite ancora, ih, che curaggio!
Rrose, che belli rrose! Torna maggio.
My dear, you're always with relatives –
this family seems like a tribe to me.
They come from Milan,
they come from the East,
and all these people
always crowd around me.
An old aunt who used to live in Cefalù
came here and never left.
Me, your aunt and you,
poor woman, she suffers,
occasionally fainting.
Me, your aunt and you,
fresh eggs and mozzarella,
we can only walk alongside her wheelchair.
I'm paying for everything here and there,
but who gives me any money?
Either I'll have to leave you or, in a month,
I'm have to beg for charity.
Ah, ah, ah!
You pulled me into a mess,
I’ll marry someone else,
and I won’t see any of you again.
Your mother, your sister and you,
your father, your brother and you,
your grandma, your aunt and you.
Your father, your brother, your grandmother,
your sister, your sister, your aunt,
your aunt, your father, your father,
your brother, your brother, your grandmother,
your grandmother, your father, your dog.
“Sorry young man, I'm her great-grandmother,
and I just got out of the hospital . . . ”
Aaaaaaahhhhhh!!!
Music: Eduardo Di Capua (1865-1917)
Words: Vincenzo Russo (1876-1904)
Roses, what beautiful roses! May returns.
Smell the fragrance of these beautiful flowers!
Listen to how the birds sing!
And are you still sleeping? Hey, what courage!
Open this window, oh beautiful fairy,
because the air has now become fragrant!
But you’re still sleeping, hey, what courage!
Roses, what beautiful roses! May has returned.
Rrose, che belli rrose! 'A 'n'anno sano,
Stongo strujenno 'e pprete 'e chesta via.
Ma vuje nun v'affacciate. Uh, mamma mia!
I' nun mme fido 'e stà da vuje luntano.
E si ve sto' luntano quacche ghiuorno,
Pare ca vuje mme state sempe attuorno,
Ca mme parlate e mm'astrignite 'a mano.
Rrose, che belli rrose! È 'n'anno sano!
Rrose, che belli rrose! E vuje durmite!
Ma nun ve sceta 'stu prufumo doce?
'E primmavera nun sentite 'e vvoce?
Ma vuje core 'mpietto ne tenite?
Vocca addirosa comm'a 'na viola.
'A primmavera mia site vuje sola!
Ma chesta voce vuje nun 'a sentite?
Rrose, che belli rrose! E vuje durmite!
'A serenata 'e Pulecenella (1916)
“Pulcinella’s Serenade”
E stò aspettanno cu 'stu mandulino
Ll'ora che, 'a cielo, se ne trase 'a luna.
Mme sò nascosto dint'a 'nu ciardino,
Pe' nun 'o ffà assapè
Ca sò semp'io ca cerco scusa a te.
Te voglio tantu bbene.
T' 'o ddico zittu, zittu,
Ca, si allucco, 'a gente
Ca nun sape niente,
Pò sentì: "Te voglio bbene."
Mme metto scuorno 'e fà sapè a ll'amice
Ca tinco tinco torno e faccio pace.
Si 'appura 'a gente, Napule che dice?
Ca mm' 'e vvoglio fà fà
Sott'a chist'uocchie cierti 'nfamità?!
Te voglio tantu bbene . . .
'Na vota ero 'o cchiù guappo 'e ll'Arenella,
Tenevo 'nnammurate a mille a mille,
E mo mme faje chiammà Pulecenella.
Ma tu ce pienze o no,
Ch'ero 'nu guappo, guappo overo. E mo?
Te voglio tantu bbene . . .
Roses, what beautiful roses! For a whole year
I've been wearing out the stones on this road.
But you don’t even look at me. Oh my God!
I can’t trust myself to stay away from you.
And if I'm away from you a few days,
it seems you are still close to me,
that you are talking to me and holding my hand.
Roses, what beautiful roses! It's been a whole year!
Roses, what beautiful roses! And you sleep!
But doesn’t this sweet scent wake you up?
Don’t you hear the voices of spring?
Do you still have a heart inside your breast?
Mouth fragrant as a violet.
My spring is you alone!
But can you not hear this voice?
Roses, what beautiful roses! And still you sleep!
Music: Enrico Cannio (1874-1949)
Words: Libero Bovio (1883-1942)
I'm waiting with this mandolin
for the hour when the moon enters the sky.
I’m hiding in a garden
so people won’t know
that it’s always me begging your forgiveness.
“I love you so much!”
I tell you very softly,
for if I shout, the people
who know nothing
might hear: "I love you."
I'm ashamed to let my friends know,
so I quickly go back to calm them down.
If people knew, what would Naples say?
Why would I do anything disgraceful
under the gaze of those eyes?
I love you so much . . .
Once I was the beau of Arenella,
I had tons of admirers,
but now they call me Pulcinella.
But whether you believe it or not,
I was handsome! But now . . .
I love you so much . . .
Tarantella, Op.87a (1936)
Chella llà (1956)
“That Girl There”
St'ammore mme teneva 'ncatenato,
ma ho detto "Basta" e mme só' liberato.
Mme pare cchiù turchino 'o cielo,
mme pare cchiù lucente 'o mare
e 'o core canta p' 'a felicitá.
Chella llà, chella llà,
mo va dicenno ca mme vò' lassà.
Se crede ca mme faccio 'o sango amaro,
se crede ca 'mpazzisco e po' mme sparo.
chella llà, chella llà,
nun sape che piacere ca mme fa.
Mme ne piglio n'ata cchiù bella
e zetèlla restarrá chella llà
Ajere, mm'ha mannato nu biglietto
p' 'a figlia d' 'o purtiere dirimpetto.
Mme scrive ca nun è felice
e ca vurría, cu me, fá pace,
ma io mme stó' gustanno 'a libbertà.
Chella llà, chella llà.
‘E palumme (1913)
“The Doves”
Miezojuorno. Coce 'o sole
E Vuje state 'int' 'o ciardino,
Sott' 'e ffronne 'e mandarino,
'Mmiez'ô gghianco d' 'e llenzole
Spase ô sole.
E 'na chiorma 'e palummielle
Vola, vola attuorno a Vuje
Ca lle date 'e mullechelle.
Spuzzulea, po' se ne fuje
Chesta chiorma 'e palummielle.
Accussì, pe' 'sta passione
Ca mme struje,
Volano sempe, volano
Tutt' 'e penziere mieje attuorno a Vuje!
Ma pecché, sbattenno 'e mmane,
Ma pecché vuje n' 'e ccacciate,
'Sti palumme aggraziate,
Mentre po' lle date 'o ppane
'Mmiez'ê mmane?
Mario Castelnuovo-Tedesco (1895 – 1968)
Music: Enzo di Paula (1910-1988) & Sandro Taccani (1915-?)
Words: Umberto Bertini (1900-1987)
This love kept me chained up,
but I said “Basta!" and I freed myself.
Now the sky seems more blue,
the sea shines brighter,
and my heart sings for joy.
That girl there, that girl there –
now she says she wants to leave me.
If she thinks I'll eat my heart out,
that I’ll go crazy and shoot myself,
that girl there, that girl there –
she does not know what pleasure she gives me.
I'll just get myself a more beautiful girl
and that one there will remain a spinster.
Yesterday, she sent me a note
through the daughter of the front porter.
She wrote that she isn’t happy,
that she would like to make peace with me –
but I'm rather enjoying my freedom.
That girl there, that girl there!
Music: Mario Persico (b1930)
Words: Oscar Gallo (1909-1994)
It’s noon. The sun is hot,
and you are in the garden
under the tangerine leaves,
among the white sheets,
lying in the sun.
A flock of doves
fly around you, and
you give them some crumbs.
They peck, and then the flock of doves
scatter away.
In the same way, for this passion
that burns me,
all my thoughts about you
are always flying around!
But why, clapping your hands together,
why do you drive them away,
these graceful doves,
instead of giving them the bread
in between your hands?
Se ne vanno 'ncopp' 'o mare, They go out to the sea,
P' 'e mmarine, a duje a duje, to the marinas, two by two,
'Ncopp' 'e titte, 'e campanare on the roofs, on the bell towers,
E po' tornano addu Vuje. and then they come back to you.

Accussì, pe' 'sta passione In the same way, for this passion
Ca mme struje, that burns me,
Si n' 'e ccacciate, tornano if you chase away all my thoughts about you,
Tutt' 'e penziere mieje attuorno a Vuje! they will come right back.

Comme facette Mammeta (1906) Music: Salvatore Gambardella (1871-1913)

“How Mamma Did It” Words: Giuseppe Capaldo (1874-1919)

Quanno mammeta t'ha fatta, When your mama made you,

Vuó' sapé comme facette? Do you want to know how she did it?

Pe' 'mpastá sti ccarne belle, To knead together all this nice flesh,
Tutto chello ca mettette? Do you what she put in it?

Ciento rose 'ncappucciate, One hundred rosebuds

dint' 'a mártula mmescate. she mixed with a mortar.
Latte, rose, rose e latte, Milk and roses, roses and milk,
te facette 'ncopp' 'o fatto. she whisked you up in an instant.

Nun c'è bisogno 'a zingara There is no need for the gypsy
p'andiviná, Cuncè'. to guess, Concetta.
Comme t'ha fatto mammeta, How your mother made you
'o ssaccio meglio 'e te. I know better than you.

E pe' fá 'sta vocca bella, And to make this lovely mouth,

nun servette 'a stessa dose. there were some other ingredients.

Vuó' sapé che nce mettette? Do you want to know what she put in?
mo te dico tuttecosa. I'll tell you everything:

Nu panaro chino, chino, An overflowing basket

tutt' 'e fravule 'e ciardino. of strawberries from the garden.
Mèle, zuccaro e cannella, Apples, sugar and cinnamon,
te 'mpastaje 'sta vocca bella. to make your lovely mouth.

Nun c'è bisogno 'a zingara . . . There is no need for the gypsy . . .

E pe' fá sti ttrezze d'oro, And to make these golden braids,

mamma toja s'appezzentette. Your mother went broke.

Bella mia, tu qua' muneta? My beauty, how much did she spend?
Vuó' sapé che nce servette? Do you want to know what she needed?

Na miniera sana sana, A whole gold mine

tutta fatta a filagrana, all made of lace
nce vulette pe' sti ttrezze, it took to make those locks,
che, a vasá, nun ce sta prezzo. and now to kiss them is priceless.

Nun c'è bisogno 'a zingara . . . There is no need for the gypsy . . .
Peppeniello / Tarantella 21 (2018) Music: Marco Cera (b1970)
Words: Marco Cera & Francesco Pellegrino (b1968)

Stongo ‘mpziere da nu pare e juorne I've been worried since

Nu furastiere e` arrivato in citta` a stranger arrived in the city.
Cu nu vestito tutto elegante He dresses very elegantly,
ma a me` me pare nu grande brigante. but he looks like a bandit to me.

Seduto in piazza a bere o cafe’ Sitting in the square drinking coffee,

trattato comme fosse nu Re treated like a king,
Tutto ‘o paese lo riverisce the whole city reveres him
e sta a sentire quello che dice. and listens to everything he says.

Peppeniello! chillo e’ papa’ “Peppeniello, that guy is your father!

Mo E’ venuto a ce piglia’ He has come to take us
Tanta ricchezza jamme a truva` to seek a great fortune --
Nuje ce ne jamme a lu Canada’ we're going to Canada!”

Quanta fatica dint’a campagna So much work we’ve done in the countryside
Cu lu Barone ca tutto se magna and the baron eats everything,
Lassanne sulo quatto mulliche leaving us only hard bread
mugliere e figlie a paga` sti` fatiche. paid for by the work of wives and children.

Chesta vita nun se po fa We can’t live in these conditions

Ca nun tenimme niente a magia` having nothing to eat.
Dint’e Briganti o a Emigra` Either we become theives, or we must emigrate,
Mo ce ne jamme a lu Canada so now we’re going to Canada.

O Canada, O Canada, Oh Canada, oh Canada,

Quanta grazia c’e` fatto truva` how much mercy you’ve shown us!
O Canada, O Canada, Oh Canada, oh Canada,
A lu paese nun ce fatto scurda`. you won’t make us forget our homeland!

Peppeniello ‘ncoppo a na nave Peppeniello on board the ship

Senza sape` addo` lu purtava not knowing where he was going
S’era addurmuto cu nu sole cucente fell asleep under a beautiful sky
Allu risveglio nu cielo fetente. but then woke up under an ugly one!

Tutta sta gente! l’italia sta cca So many people! All of Italy is here,
Mille palazzi avimma cria` constructing thousands of houses.
Lu Canada ce da a mangia` Canada gives us enough to eat,
comme fa freddo e nevica cca`. but also cold and snow!

O Canada . . . Oh Canada . . .

Intermission
Reginella (1917)
“Little Queen”
Te si' fatta na vesta scullata,
nu cappiello cu 'e nastre e cu 'e rrose.
Stive 'mmiez'a tre o quatto sciantose
e parlave francese. E' accussì?
Fuje ll'autriere ca t'aggio 'ncuntrata,
fuje ll'autriere a Tuleto, 'gnorsì.
T'aggio vuluto bene a te.
Tu mm'hê vuluto bene a me.
Mo nun ce amammo cchiù,
ma ê vvote tu,
distrattamente, pienze a me.
Reginè, quanno stive cu mico,
nun magnave ca pane e cerase.
Nuje campàvamo 'e vase, e che vase.
Tu cantave e chiagnive pe'mmé.
E 'o cardillo cantava cu tico:
"Reginella 'o vò' bene a stu rre".
T'aggio vuluto bene a te . . .
Oje cardillo, a chi aspiette stasera?
Nun 'o vvide? Aggio aperta 'a cajóla.
Reginella è vulata? E tu vola.
Vola e canta, nun chiagnere ccà.
T'hê 'a truvà na padrona sincera
ch'è cchiù degna 'e sentirte 'e cantà.
T'aggio vuluto bene a te . . .
Amaro e` ‘o bbene (1980)
“Love is Bitter”
Nu suono 'e fisarmonica se sente,
ma nun 'o ssaccio si mm' 'o stó' sunnanno
o forse sta sunanno overamente.
Amaro è 'o bbene.
Amare sóngo 'e vase ca mme daje.
Nun tene cielo,
st'ammore nuosto nun tene dimane.
Amaro è 'o core,
pecché nun sape chello ch' 'ha da fá:
si ha da tremmá pe' te o si ha da fermá.
Music: Gaetano Lama (1886-1950)
Words: Libero Bovio (1883-1942)
You wore a low-necked dress
and a hat with ribbons and roses.
You were with three or four club singers
and you were speaking French. Is that right?
Was it only the other day that I met you?
Was it only the other day on via Toledo – yes, sir.
I loved you!
You loved me!
Now we do not love each other anymore,
but now and then you
distractedly think of me.
Little queen, when you were with me
we ate bread and cherries.
We lived on kisses, and what kisses!
You sang and cried for me,
And the goldfinch sang with you:
"Reginella, you love this king!"
I loved you . . .
Goldfinch, who are you waiting for tonight?
Can’t you see? I opened the cage,
and Reginella flew away. And you – fly!
Fly away and sing, don’t stay here to cry.
You must find a sincere mistress
who is more worthy of hearing you sing.
I loved you . . .
Music: Sergio Bruni (1921-2003)
Words: Salvatore Palomba (b1933)
I hear the sound of an accordion,
but I don’t know if I'm dreaming it
or whether he's really playing.
Love is bitter,
and bitter are the kisses you give me.
This love of ours has no limit
and also no future.
The heart is bitter,
for it does not know what it should do:
if it should tremble or if it should stop.
Ce sta, 'int'a ll'aria, nu presentimento. I feel a premonition in the air.
Chisà si chesta è giá ll'urdema vota. I wonder if this is already the last time.
Sento ca mme ll'arrobbo ogne mumento. I feel I have to steal every moment.

Amaro è 'o bbene. Love is bitter.

Polka Giovanni Chiriatti

‘Na bruna Sergio Bruni (1921-2003)

“A Brunette” Words by Aniello Langella (1919-1995)
Venètte da tanto luntano nu furastiero, A tourist came from far away
Restaje 'ncantato d''o mare, and fell in love with the sea,
d''o sole e 'a luna, nu furastiero... the sun, and the moon.

Se 'ncantaje 'e duje uocchie curvine He fell in love with two blue eyes –
'e na bruna, 'e vint'anne d'etá. she was a brunette, about twenty years old.

Chella vò' bene a n'ato e pe' chillo more, But she was in love with another,
Pe' nu bellu guaglione 'e piscatore. a handsome young fisherman

Furastiero, 'e denare che só'? “Oh tourist, your money is useless
Quanno 'o core fa chello che vò'. since my heart is already taken.”

Chella s'è fatta 'a croce cu ll'acqua 'e mare, She crossed herself with sea water
e po' ha giurato: "Io nun te lasso maje.” and swore to him “I will never leave you.”

P''o mare na festa 'e lampáre nu piscatore, The sea is in celebration, the fisherman
s'astregne 'int''e bbracce na bruna takes in his arms his brunette
cu 'o velo 'e sposa, in her bridal dress and marries her.

Dice 'a gente: "Cu bona furtuna!... The people say: “To your good fortune!
pe' cient'anne, pe' sempe accussí." For a hundred years may you stay together!”

Lazzarella (1957) Music: Domenico Modugno (1928-1994)

“Little Rascal” Words: Riccardo Pazzaglia (1926-2006)
Cu 'e libbre sott' 'o vraccio With books under your arm
e 'a camicetta a fiore blu, and your blouse with blue flowers,
vuó' fá 'a signurenella you want to be a little miss
'nnanz'â scola pure tu. in front of the school too.
Te piglie 'a sigaretta You pull out a cigarette
quann' 'accatte pe' papá, when you buy a pack for your dad,
te miette giá 'o rrussetto you’re already putting on lipstick,
comme vide 'e fá a mammá. just like you see your mom doing.
Lazzarè'. You Little Rascal!
Ma Lazzarella comme si'
Tu a me mme piace sempe 'e cchiù,
e vengo apposta pe' t' 'o ddí,
vicino â scola d' 'o Gesù.
Tu invece mme rispunne: "Eggiá,
io devo retta proprio a te.
Pe' me ll'ammore pó aspettá,
che n'aggi' 'a fá? Nun fa pe' me".
Ah, Lazzarella, ventata 'e primmavera.
Quanno passe tutt' 'e mmatine,
giá te spiecchie dint' 'e vvetrine,
sulo nu cumplimento te fa avvampá.
Ma Lazzarella comme si',
tu nun mme pienze proprio a me,
e ride pe' mm' 'o ffá capí
ca perdo 'o tiempo appriess'a te.
Mo vène nu studente
'nnanz'â scola d' 'o Gesù,
te va sempe cchiù stretta
'a camicetta a fiore blu.
Te piglie quatto schiaffe
tutt' 'e vvote ca papá,
te trova nu biglietto
ca te scrive chillu llà.
Lazzarè'.
Ma Lazzarella comme si',
ce si' caduta pure tu.
Ll'ammore nun te fa mangiá,
te fa suffrí, te fa penzá.
Na sera tu lle dice: "No,"
na sera tu lle dice: "Ma."
Ma si nu vaso te vò' dá
faje segno 'e "sí", senza parlá.
Ah, Lazzarella, 'o tiempo comme vola.
Mo te truove tutt' 'e mmatine,
chino 'e lacreme stu cuscino.
Manco na cumpagnella te pò aiutá.
Ma Lazzarella comme si'
Te si' cagnata pure tu.
E te pripare a di' stu "Sí,"
ma dint' 'a cchiesa d' 'o Gesù.
But though you’re being a Little Rascal
I like you more and more,
and I’m coming just to tell you just that
near the school of Jesus.
But you answer: "Yeah, right,
and I should do what you say?
Love will have to wait for me –
what can I do about it? It's not for me."
Ah, Little Rascal, you’re a breath of fresh air
when you walk by every morning,
you look at your reflection in the windows,
and just one compliment makes you blush.
But a Little Rascal as you are,
you’re not thinking about me at all,
and you laugh to make me realize
that I’m wasting my time chasing you.
Now a student arrives
in front of the school of Jesus,
and that blouse with the blue flowers
is getting tighter all the time.
You get four smacks
every time your dad
finds a letter
that this guy writes you.
Little Rascal . . .
But Little Rascal as you are,
now you’ve fallen for it too:
Love does not let you eat,
it makes you suffer, it makes you worry.
One evening you tell him: "No!"
Another evening you tell him "Well,"
but if he wants to give you a kiss,
you nod without speaking.
Ah, Little Rascal, time does fly.
Now you find yourself every morning
on your pillow soaked in tears;
Not even one of your girlfriends can help.
But Little Rascal as you are,
You have changed too.
Now you’re preparing yourself to say "I do,"
but now inside the church of Jesus!
Il primo bacio (1920) Giacomo Sartori (1860-1946)
“The First Kiss”

Passione (1934) Music: Ernesto Tagliaferri (1889-1937) & Nicola Valente (1881-1946)
“Passion” Words: Libero Bovio (1883-1942)
Cchiù luntana mme staje, The further away you are,
cchiù vicina te sento. the closer I feel you.
Chisà a chistu mumento I wonder right now
tu a che pienze, che faje. what you’re thinking, what you’re doing.

Tu mm'hê miso 'int' 'e vvéne You put into my veins

nu veleno ch'è doce. a poison that is sweet.
Comme pesa 'sta croce How heavy is this cross
ca trascino pe'tté. that I bear for you!

Te voglio, te penzo, te chiammo, I want you, I think of you, I'll call you,
te veco, te sento, te sonno. I see you, I hear you, I dream of you.

E' n'anno, It's been a year -

ce pienze ch'è n'anno, do you realize it's been a year
ca st'uocchie nun ponno that these eyes can no longer
cchiù pace truvà? find peace?

E cammino, cammino, And I walk all around,

ma nun saccio addó' vaco. but I do not know where I'm going.
I' stó' sempe 'mbriaco I'm always drunk
e nun bevo maje vino. yet I never have a drop of wine.

Aggio fatto nu vuto I made a vow

â Madonna d' 'a neve, to Our Lady of the Snow:
si mme passa 'sta freve, if you let me get over this fever,
oro e perle lle dó'. I’ll give her gold and pearls.

Te voglio, te penzo, te chiammo, I want you, I think of you, I'll call you,
te veco, te sento, te sonno. I see you, I hear you, I dream of you.
Oilì, oilà (1885) Music: Pasquale Mario Costa (1858-1933)
Words: Salvatore di Giacomo (1860-1934)
Carmè', quanno te veco, Carmela, when I see you,
mme sbatte 'o core... my heart is pounding.
Dimméllo tu ch'è chesto, Tell me what this is,
si nun è ammore? if it's not love?
Chest'è ammore, oilì - oilà! This is love, oilì – oilà,
e dincello a mamma toja si te vò' fá mmaretá... and tell your mom if you want to get married!
Carmè', dincello: Carmela, tell your mom:
Nu bellu maretiello a handsome husband
è sempe buono. is always good to have.
Si no tu rieste sola, If not, you remain alone,
sola, sola, e llariulá... alone, alone, and lariulà.
'a veritá, nce vò' na cumpagnia, It would be swell to be together
tricche - tricche, e llariulá... tricche - tricche, e llariulá!

Comm'acqua a la funtana, Like fountain water,

ca nun se secca, that does not dry up,
Ll'ammore è na catena, love is a chain,
ca nun se spezza... that does not break.
Nun se spezza, oilì - oilà! It will never break, oilì – oilà!
si se spezza...bonasera, nun se pò cchiù 'ncatená! if it breaks, it's all over - it can’t be chained.
Carmè' tu 'o ssiente? Carmela, listen to me
Nu bellu maretiello è sempe buono . . . A handsome husband is always good . . .
Stu core aggio perduto, I lost my heart
'mmiez'a na via... in the middle of a road.
Tu certo ll'hê truvato, Of course you found it,
bellezza mia... my beauty.
Ll'hê truvato, oilì - oilà! You found it, oilì – oilà,
ll'hê truvato e ll'annascunne, you found it and hide it,
ma vengh'io pe' mm''o pigliá! but I come to take it back.
Carmè', dancíllo! Carmela give me back my heart
Nu bellu maretiello è sempe buono . . . A handsome husband is always good . . .

Vesuvius Ensemble offers heartfelt thanks to our season sponsors:

Valerie Elia
Paul and Rebecca Elia
John and Angela Caliendo
John Donald and Linda Chu

Please save these dates for Vesuvius Ensemble’s 2018-2019 concert series at Heliconian Hall:

October 29, 2018 – Neapolitan fairy tales April 19, 2019 – Easter concert

December 22 & 23, 2018 – Christmas concert May 31, 2019 – Popular opera arias