Don Salvato', you that watch us from above
surely we turn out ridiculous
with all these veils before the eyes
we children of this earth, and this life
we are talking too often
even without being asked,
we now a mess, now a disgrace
it seems that we have become accustomed.
Don Salvato', the trees are crying
the fruits have become rotten:
poison, smoke and gray sky
when your hand is not reached,
and then fear next to us
in the midst of deserts of misery,
Carrions, pigs, row bloods,
dirty hands, hunger and thirst!
Don Salvatato' do we need
all this education
if even each shoe gets old
and if it doesn't die is a boot
and if you go with your heart ,no one helps you:
only you remnant slave of decency
It makes you stupid and happy.
and then you have a thorn in your heart
Don Salvatore, Don Salvatore.
Don Salvatore what do we do with it?
To believe between hope and good works
if then fate is up to you
and we have never right
and Arab people, or people of the Balkans
modern or ancient times.
Don Salvato', a little patience
if we still understand. nothing.
Don saved under your table
a loaf of bread, when it falls,
a sip of your wine of your son,
blood and nails amid the hands,
and if you go with your heart, no one helps you:
you only remnant slave of decency
It makes you stupid and happy.
And then a thorn in your heart
Don Salvatore, Don Salvatore.