Below is the lyrics of the song Pittori Della Domenica , artist - Paolo Conte with translation
Original text with translation
Paolo Conte
Eccoli li, lungo le strade,
come a cercare segrete plaghe.
Le mogli a casa?
sempre arrabbiate
per qualche ora le hanno ripudiate;
generalmente han sguardi buoni
sovente ingenui e un po’da bambinoni
c'?
sempre in loro un po’di dramma
a capirli?
solo la loro mamma.
Pitori della domenica?
Eccoli l?, con gli occhi attenti,
a radunare di s?
mille frammenti
dispersi in giro per l’eternit?
da una particolare sensibilit?
-Oggi vien male questo celeste.
Ma no,?
il ricordo delle tue,
delle tue tempeste —
C?
sempre in loro un po’di scena
di amore e morte?
un’altalena.
Here they are, along the streets,
as if looking for secret areas.
The wives at home?
always angry
for a few hours they repudiated them;
they generally have good looks
often naive and a little childish
c '?
always a bit of drama in them
to understand them?
just their mom.
Sunday painters?
There they are, with watchful eyes,
to gather of s?
a thousand fragments
scattered around for eternity?
from a particular sensitivity?
-Today this celestial is bad.
But no,?
the memory of yours,
of your storms -
C?
always a bit of stage in them
of love and death?
a swing.
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