Rossini: Canzonetta spagnuola "En medio a mis colores" - Cecilia Bartoli, Charles Spencer, Джоаккино Россини

En medio a mis colores, ay,

pintando estaba un día, ay,

cuando la musa mía, ay,

me vino a tormentar, ay.

Ay, con dolor pues dejo

empresa tan feliz

cual es de bellae Nice

las prendas celebrar, ay.

Quiso que yo pintase, ay,

objeto sobrehumano, ay,

pero lo quiso en vano, ay,

lo tuvo que dejar, ay.

Ay, con dolor pues dejo

empresa tan feliz

cual es de bellae Nice

las prendas celebrar, ay.

Conoce la hermosura, ay,

un corazón vagado, ay,

mas su destin malvado, ay,

Ie impide de centar, ay.

Ay, con dolor pues dejo

empresa tan feliz

cual es de bellae Nice

las prendas celebrar, ay.

Surrounded by my colours

I was painting one day

when my Muse

came to torment me.

With sadness then I left

my happy task

of celebrating the charms

of the fair Nice.

My Muse asked me to depict

a more spiritual subject;

but she asked in vain,

for I could not do so.

With sadness then I left

my happy task

of celebrating the charms

of the fair Nice.

An inconstant heart

may know beauty,

but its cruel destiny

prevents it from singing.

With sadness then I left

my happy task

of celebrating the charms

of the fair Nice.

In the middle of my colors, oh,

I was painting one day, oh,

when my muse, oh,

He came to torment me, oh.

Oh, with pain because I leave

company so happy

which is Bellae Nice

the garments celebrate, oh.

He wanted me to paint, oh,

superhuman object, alas,

but he wanted it in vain, oh,

he had to leave it, alas.

Oh, with pain because I leave

company so happy

which is Bellae Nice

the garments celebrate, oh.

Meet the beauty, oh,

a wandering heart, oh,

but his evil destiny of him, oh,

It prevents him from centar, alas.

Oh, with pain because I leave

company so happy

which is Bellae Nice

the garments celebrate, oh.

Surrounded by my colors

I was painting one day

when my Muse

came to torment me.

With sadness then I left

my happy task

of celebrating the charms

of the fair Nice.

My Muse asked me to picture

a more spiritual subject;

but she asked in vain,

for I could not do so.

With sadness then I left

my happy task

of celebrating the charms

of the fair Nice.

An inconstant heart

mayknowbeauty,

but its cruel destiny

prevents it from singing.

With sadness then I left

my happy task

of celebrating the charms

of the fair Nice.