Now we live in a different worldStrangers to each others. On a different landIn a different time, in a different place
In a different frame of mind
Sometimes I feel I'm not the only oneSometimes I feel I'm not the only one
And now we dream of a second chanceNow there's no one else to blameIn a different time, in a different place
In a different frame of mind
Sometimes I feel I'm not the only oneSometimes I feel I'm not the only one
All the time you were always on my mindAll the time you were always on my mind
In a different frame of mind.In a different stratosphere. In a different mindspace.In a different stratosphere. In a different mind.
All the time you were always on my mind

Aida - Prelude



Ritorna vincitor! E dal mio labbroUscì l’empia parola! VincitorDel padre mio, di lui che impugna l’armiPer me per ridarmiUna patria, una reggia e il nome illustreChe qui celar m’è forza. VincitorDe’ miei fratelli...ond’io lo vegga, tintoDel sangue amato, trionfar nel plausoDell’egizie coorti! E dietro il carro,Un Re, mio padre, di catene avvinto!L’insana parola,O numi, sperdete!Al seno d’un padreLa figlia rendete;Struggete le squadreDei nostri oppressori.Ah! Sventurata! che dissi? E l’amor mio?Dunque scordar poss’ioQuesto fervido amore che oppressa e schiavaCome raggio di sol qui mi beava?Imprecherò la morteA Radamès, a lui ch’amo pur tanto!Ah! non fu in terra maiDa più crudeli angosce un core affranto!I sacri nomi di padre, d’amanteNé profferir poss’io, ne ricordar;Per l’un, per l’altro confusa e tremante,lo piangere vorrei, vorrei pregar.Ma la mia prece in bestemmia si muta...Delitto è il pianto a me, colpa il sospir...In notte cupa la mente è perduta,E nell’ansia crudel vorrei morir.
Numi, pietà del mio soffrir!Speme non v’ha pel mio dolor.Amor fatal, tremendo amor,Spezzami il cor, fammi morir!Numi, pietà del mio soffrir! ecc.

ENReturn victorious! My lips have spoken
the traitorous words! Victorious
over my father, who takes up arms
for me, to give me again
a country, a kingdom and a great name,
which here I must hide. Victorious
over my brothers – that I may see him,
stained with the beloved blood, welcomed
in triumph by Egypt! And behind
his chariot, a King. my father, in chains!
My mad word,
O
gods, efface!
Send back this child
to her father’s heart.
Destroy the legions
of our oppressors!
Wretched girl, what have I said? And my love?
Can I, then, forget
this burning love, which, as a wretched slave,
I
welcome in rapture like a ray of the sun?
Shall I invoke death
upon Radamès, him whom I love so much?
Ah, never on earth
has a broken heart known such anguish!
The sacred words
father
and
lover –
I can no longer speak them, nor remember.
For each, in my fear and confusion,
I should like to pray, to weep.
But my prayer changes to cursing –
tears, for me, are criminal; so too my sighs.
My mind is lost in a bitter night,
and in such cruel anguish I wish to die.
Oh! gods, have pity on my suffering!
There is no hope for my sorrow!
Fatal love, fearful love,
break my heart and let me die!
Oh! gods, have pity on my suffering!
etc.

Vissi d'arte, vissi d'amore,non feci mai male ad anima viva!Con man furtivaquante miserie conobbi aiutai.Sempre con fè sincerala mia preghieraai santi tabernacoli salì.Sempre con fè sinceradiedi fiori agli altar.Nell'ora del doloreperché, perché, Signore,perché me ne rimuneri così?Diedi gioielli della Madonna al manto,e diedi il canto agli astri, al ciel,che ne ridean più belli.Nell'ora del dolore,perché, perché, Signore,ah, perché me ne rimuneri così?
J'ai vécu d'art, j'ai vécu d'amour,je n'ai jamais fait de mal à âme qui vive !Par une main cachéej'ai soulagé toutes les misères que j'ai rencontrées.Toujours avec une foi sincèrema prièreest allée vers le saint tabernacle.Toujours avec une foi sincèrej'ai offert des fleurs à l'autel.En ce temps de douleurpourquoi, pourquoi, Seigneur,pourquoi m'en récompenses-tu ainsi ?J'ai offert des joyaux pour le manteau de la Madone,et offert mon chant aux étoiles, au ciel,qui en resplendissaient, encore plus beaux.En ce temps de douleurpourquoi, pourquoi, Seigneur,ah, pourquoi m'en récompenses-tu ainsi ?
I lived for my art, I lived for love,I never did harm to a living soul!With a secret handI relieved as many misfortunes as I knew of.Always with true faithmy prayerrose to the holy shrines.
Always with true faithI gave flowers to the altar.
In the hour of griefwhy, why, o Lord,why do you reward me thus?I gave jewels for the Madonna’s mantle,and I gave my song to the stars, to heaven,which smiled with more beauty.In the hour of griefwhy, why, o Lord,ah, why do you reward me thus?