Purissima Lucia - Massimo Ranieri

E maledetta sia la mia poesia,

o purissima Lucia.

Passata in fretta come un temporale per Lucia che non mi vuole, come una foglia

segue ogni vento, senza dolore e senza rimpianto, tra le sue braccia l’anima vola

senza un perch?.

I suoi capelli sono d’oro fino, ho imparato che amo il vino, dentro suoi occhi il mare dei diamanti, ma quanti sono i naviganti, tramonta il sole spegne piano le parole, il mare canta ma non canta come vuole, la luna va per le terrazze,

le persiane mentre ti viene a cercare.

Bella ma senza santi, per chi parte per chi viene, per chi non vuole metterti

catene, Bianca come una rosa, rosa bianca senza spine, bella solo per chi non lo sa, che per averti pagare dovr?, che per averti pagare dovr…

Dentro ai tuoi fianchi un fiume di poesia, o purissima Lucia.

Il tempo passa ed?

come le spose, per un poco son preziose, sulla tue gonna il tuo corpo si accende e non si sa prede e chi vende.

ma le tue ali soprail tuo

cielo non brucier?, tramonta il sole spegne piano le parole, se il mare canta,

canta solo quando vuole la luna va per le terrazze, le persiane ma io non ti vengo a cercare.

Bella ma senza santi, per chi sogna e per chi spera, bella se?

soltanto un’avventura.

Bianca come una rosa, rosa bianca senza spine, bella solo per chi non lo sa,

che per averti pagare dovr?, che per averti pagare dovr?.

(Grazie a Christina per questo testo)

And damn my poetry,

or very pure Lucia.

Passed quickly like a storm for Lucia who doesn't want me, like a leaf

she follows every wind, without pain and without regret, in her arms the soul flies

without a why ?.

Her hair is of fine gold, I have learned that I love wine, the sea of ​​diamonds in her eyes, but how many sailors are there, the sun goes down slowly, the sea sings but does not sing as it wants, the moon goes for the terraces,

the shutters while she comes looking for you.

Beautiful but without saints, for those who leave for those who come, for those who don't want to wear you

chains, White as a rose, white rose without thorns, beautiful only for those who do not know, that to have to pay you I will have to ?, that to have you pay I will have ...

Inside your sides a river of poetry, or most pure Lucia.

Time passes and?

like brides, for a while they are precious, on your skirt your body lights up and no one knows prey and who sells.

but your wings above yours

sky will not burn, the sun sets, slowly extinguishes the words, if the sea sings,

he sings only when he wants the moon goes to the terraces, the shutters but I don't come looking for you.

Beautiful but without saints, for those who dream and for those who hope, beautiful if?

just an adventure.

White as a rose, white rose without thorns, beautiful only for those who do not know,

that to have to pay you I will have to ?, that to have to pay you I will have to ?.

(Thanks to Christina for this text)