Now we live in a different world
Strangers to each others. On a different land
In a different time, in a different place

In a different frame of mind

Sometimes I feel I'm not the only one
Sometimes I feel I'm not the only one

And now we dream of a second chance
Now there's no one else to blame
In a different time, in a different place

In a different frame of mind

Sometimes I feel I'm not the only one
Sometimes I feel I'm not the only one

All the time you were always on my mind
All 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 labbro
Uscì l’empia parola! Vincitor
Del padre mio, di lui che impugna l’armi
Per me per ridarmi
Una patria, una reggia e il nome illustre
Che qui celar m’è forza. Vincitor
De’ miei fratelli...ond’io lo vegga, tinto
Del sangue amato, trionfar nel plauso
Dell’egizie coorti! E dietro il carro,
Un Re, mio padre, di catene avvinto!
L’insana parola,
O numi, sperdete!
Al seno d’un padre
La figlia rendete;
Struggete le squadre
Dei nostri oppressori.
Ah! Sventurata! che dissi? E l’amor mio?
Dunque scordar poss’io
Questo fervido amore che oppressa e schiava
Come raggio di sol qui mi beava?
Imprecherò la morte
A Radamès, a lui ch’amo pur tanto!
Ah! non fu in terra mai
Da più crudeli angosce un core affranto!
I sacri nomi di padre, d’amante
Né 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.

EN
Return 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 furtiva
quante miserie conobbi aiutai.
Sempre con fè sincera
la mia preghiera
ai santi tabernacoli salì.
Sempre con fè sincera
diedi fiori agli altar.
Nell'ora del dolore
perché, 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 cachée
j'ai soulagé toutes les misères que j'ai rencontrées.
Toujours avec une foi sincère
ma prière
est allée vers le saint tabernacle.
Toujours avec une foi sincère
j'ai offert des fleurs à l'autel.
En ce temps de douleur
pourquoi, 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 douleur
pourquoi, 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 hand
I relieved as many misfortunes as I knew of.
Always with true faith
my prayer
rose to the holy shrines.

Always with true faith
I gave flowers to the altar.

In the hour of grief
why, 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 grief
why, why, o Lord,
ah, why do you reward me thus?