El bandolero stanco [English translation]

Perhaps it's the wind that doesn't brush him anymore

perhaps it's his hat that doesn't fit him anymore,

perhaps it's that line of joyous nostalgia on his face

or the confusion between life and poetry...

He doesn't rob trains because they never pass

he doesn't rob banks because that's his money;

he lives off sunsets and carefully planned oblivion

and moving, repeated, slow goodbyes,

heart wrenching goodbyes...

The tired bandit

broken hearted, tonight goes away

goes away on his white horse

goes away with his torment,

where there's silence, where there's silence,

where there's silence, where there's silence, where there's silence.

He has an unparalleled collection of bounties on his head

many bottles, all emptied a long time ago;

he sleeps on his horse, which can't stand him anymore

and has been working his butt off on the pampa.

Every night he comes and leaves a flower on some doorstep,

as red as the blood in his heart used to be,

then he rides away until the deceitful sunrise

when some gaucho swears to hear him still

still singing...

Ah, tired bandit

tonight I cried thinking of you:

there's something of my life

in your life that fades away

where there's silence, where there's silence,

where there's silence, where there's silence, where there's silence.

If I close my eyes, in my eyes you are still the true one,

the one I trusted, the one I smiled to.

Listen to me, look at me, stop, this love still lives

all this love, all our love.

You can't go to die a long way from here like a whore

before my heart, in place of my heart.

Don't leave me alone in this night when I can't see the sky.

Come back, bandit! Come back, bandit!

Come back, bandit!

Where there's silence, where there's silence,

where there's silence, where there's silence, where there's silence.

• Artist:Roberto Vecchioni
• Album:El bandolero stanco