Calabria Mia
Mino Reitano
My Calabria
My Calabria,
where the best sons go away
to seek fortune with the pickaxe or the hoe
and you remained within these four walls.
My Calabria!
My Calabria,
where even the chimneys are dry
and only the thorns and flowers remain,
our song will end at the sea.
My Calabria!
My Calabria,
we are sick with love,
we are sick.
Like these almonds and guitars
change this heart with nostalgia,
cry for you, my Calabria.
Change this heart with nostalgia,
cry for you, my Calabria.
Oh mother,
mother always prays to the Madonna
that her children return to her land.
And she prays, and prays, and the heart cries and struggles,
but if there is work, that son will return.
My Calabria,
we are sick with love,
we are sick.
Like these almonds and guitars
change this heart with nostalgia,
cry for you, my Calabria.
Eh, this heart always cries,
always cries with nostalgia.
Yes, mother, I am far away but
I write you this letter to...
tell you that I am well, I am fine,
And all your fellow countrymen are here,
we are always united, mother.
It's beautiful here but I am far away
and I miss you, mother,
and this heart always cries
and always cries, mother,
always cries with nostalgia.
Oh, my mother!
Hey fellow, fellow, fellow...
My Calabria!!
