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Tracks Similar To Madamina, Il Catalogo E Questo

Non Piu Andrai
Artist(s): Brandon Gibson

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Arranger(s):
Brandon Gibson (BMI) 50% / Susan De Kam (BMI) 50%


Original Composer:
Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart (Public Domain)


Publisher(s):
Black Toast Music (BMI) 100%


Category:
Classical


Subcategories:
Instrumental, Male Vocal, Opera, PD, Public Domain, World Italian


Keywords:
Aria, Baritone, Bravado, Charm, Classy, Fancy, Italy, Libretto, Love, New York, Opera House, PD, Play, Playful, Sophisticated, Theater, Upper Class, Wealthy


Instruments:
Brass, Horns, Strings, Timpani, Woodwinds


BPM:
134


Language:
Italian


Key:
C


Tempo:
Medium/Midtempo


Time Signature:
4/4


Lyrics:
Non Piu Andrai

ITALIAN:

Non più andrai, farfallone amoroso, notte e giorno d'intorno girando;
delle belle turbando il riposo Narcisetto, Adoncino d'amor.

Non più avrai questi bei pennacchini,-quel cappello leggero e galante,
quella chioma, quell'aria brillante, quel vermiglio donnesco color.

Tra guerrieri, poffar Bacco! Gran mustacchi, stretto sacco.
Schioppo in spalla, sciabla al fianco, collo dritto, muso franco,
un gran casco, o un gran turbante, molto onor, poco contante!

Ed invece del fandango, una marcia per il fango.
Per montagne, per valloni,
con le nevi e i sollioni. Al concerto di tromboni,
di bombarde, di cannoni, che le palle in tutti i tuoni
all'orecchio fan fischiar. Cherubino alla vittoria:
alla gloria militar!

ENGLISH:

You shall frolic no more, lustful butterfly, Day and night flitting to and fro;
Disturbing ladies in their sleep Little Narcissus, Adonis of love.

No longer will you have these beautiful feathers, That light, romantic cap,
That hair, that glowing countenance, That rosy, womanly complexion.

Among soldiers, by Jove! A big moustache, a little kit.
With a rifle on your shoulder, and a sabre on your flank, Standing up straight, hard faced,
A big helmet, or a big turban, Plenty of honour, little pay!

And instead of dancing the fandango, A march through the mud.
Through mountains, through valleys, With snow and with the sun beating down.
To the beat of the bugle, Of bombs, of cannons,
Whose thunderous report Makes your ears ring.
Cherubino, to victory: To glory in battle!



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