Translation of the song lyrics La Pelle Nera/Johnny B. Goode/Black Betty/Angeli Negri - Mina

La Pelle Nera/Johnny B. Goode/Black Betty/Angeli Negri (original)

Ehi, ehi, ehi dimmi Wilson Pickett
Ehi, ehi, ehi dimmi tu James Brown
Questa voce dove la trovate?
Signor King, signor Charles, signor Brown
Io faccio tutto per poter cantar come voi
Ma non c'è niente da fare, non ci riuscirò mai
E penso che sia soltanto per il mio color che non va
Ecco perché io vorrei, vorrei la pelle nera
Vorrei la pelle nera
Ehi, ehi, ehi dimmi tu signor Faust
Ehi, ehi, ehi dimmi come si può
Arrostire un negretto ogni tanto con la massima serenità
Io dico cara tu non ci dovresti pensar
Ma non c'è niente da fare per dimenticar
'Sto maledetto colore di pelle che mi brucia un po'
Ecco perché io vorrei… vorrei la pelle nera
Vorrei la pelle nera
Vorrei la pelle nera
Vorrei la pelle nera
Vorrei la pelle nera
Vorrei la pelle nera
Deep down in Louisiana close to New Orleans
Way back up in the woods among the evergreens
There stood a log cabin made of earth and wood
Where lived a country boy named Johnny B. Goode
Who never ever learned to read or write so well
But he could play a guitar just like a ringing a bell
Go go
Go, Johnny, go, go
Go, Johnny, go, go
Go, Johnny, go, go
Go, Johnny, go, go
Johnny B. Goode
Vorrei la pelle nera
Vorrei la pelle nera
Vorrei la pelle nera
Vorrei la pelle nera
Whoa Black Betty, bambalam
Whoa Black Betty, bambalam
She really get me high, bambalam
You know that’s no lie, bambalam
Shes so rock steady, bambalam
Oh shes always ready, bambalam
She really get me high, bambalam
You know that’s no lie, bambalam
Shes so rock steady, bambalam
Oh shes always ready, bambalam
Whoa Black Betty, bambalam
Whoa Black Betty, bambalam
Whoa Black Betty, bambalam
Whoa Black Betty, bambalam
Pittore, ti voglio parlare
(Pintor nacido en mi tierra)
Mentre dipingi un altare
(Con el pincel extranjero)
Io sono un povero negro
(Pintor que sigues el rumbo)
E d’una cosa ti prego
(De tantos pintores viejos)

(translation)

Hey, hey, hey tell me Wilson Pickett
Hey, hey, hey you tell me James Brown
Where do you find this item?
Mr. King, Mr. Charles, Mr. Brown
I do everything to be able to sing like you
But there is nothing to be done, I will never succeed
And I think it's just my color that's wrong
That's why I would like, I would like black skin
I would like black leather
Hey, hey, hey you tell me Mr. Faust
Hey, hey, hey tell me how you can
Roasting a little black man every now and then with the utmost serenity
I say dear you shouldn't think about it
But there is nothing to be done to forget
'I'm damn skin color that burns me a little
That's why I want ... I want black skin
I would like black leather
I would like black leather
I would like black leather
I would like black leather
I would like black leather
Deep down in Louisiana close to New Orleans
Way back up in the woods among the evergreens
There stood a log cabin made of earth and wood
Where lived a country boy named Johnny B. Goode
Who never ever learned to read or write so well
But he could play a guitar just like a ringing a bell
Go go
Go, Johnny, go, go
Go, Johnny, go, go
Go, Johnny, go, go
Go, Johnny, go, go
Johnny B. Goode
I would like black leather
I would like black leather
I would like black leather
I would like black leather
Whoa Black Betty, bambalam
Whoa Black Betty, bambalam
She really get me high, bambalam
You know that’s no lie, bambalam
She shes so rock steady, bambalam
Oh she shes always ready, bambalam
She she really get me high, bambalam
You know that’s no lie, bambalam
She shes so rock steady, bambalam
Oh she shes always ready, bambalam
Whoa Black Betty, bambalam
Whoa Black Betty, bambalam
Whoa Black Betty, bambalam
Whoa Black Betty, bambalam
Painter, I want to talk to you
(Pintor nacido en mi tierra)
While you are painting an altar
(With el pincel extranjero)
I am a poor nigga
(Pintor que sigues el rumbo)
And of one thing please
(De tantos pintores viejos)