Posts filed under ‘mother’
Maman je t’aime
J’t'ai fait un dessin
Un beau dessin
Maman je t’aime
Plein de petit’s fleurs
Et de p’tits cœurs
Maman je t’aime
J’ai fait un mouton
Tout blanc tout rond
Maman je t’aime
Avec des p’tits yeux
Tout ronds tout bleus
Maman je t’aime
REFRAIN
Maman maman maman maman
La Mamma Della Mamma
41 Zecchino d’oro 1998
Liliana Neglia
(Gianfranco Grottoli – Andrea Vaschetti – Gianfranco Fasano)
noi, se stiamo da soli,
facciamo disastri.
ci vuole qualcuno che resti con noi.
papÀ che lavora, la mamma lavora,
ma allora chi resta con noi?
Cè la mamma della mamma
che sta sempre con me, quando mamma non cè.
È la mamma della mamma.
Lei telefona ai quiz, è una specie di Oz.
È la mamma della mamma.
Lei sa tutto perché è un computer per me.
È la mamma della mamma.
Ma chissà come fa, ma chissà come fa.
Dimmi perché
ma perchÉ
ne sa sempre più la nonna della mamma.
Dimmi perché
boh
boh
ne sa più di me, ne sa più di te.
Forse perché
ma perchÉ
è la figlia della nonna della mamma.
Ecco perché
boh
boh
ne sa più di me, ne sa più di te.
È la mamma della mamma.
Mangia sette omelette e poi fa la ciclette.
È la mamma della mamma.
Ha imparato da me le mosse di karatè.
Ma che forza!
e chi lacchiappa?
Non cè lupo che può spaventarla, no, no.
È la mamma della mamma
Ma chissà come fa, ma chissà come fa.
Dimmi perché
ma perchÉ
ne sa sempre più la nonna della mamma.
Dimmi perché
boh
boh
ne sa più di me, ne sa più di te.
Forse perché
ma perchÉ
è la figlia della nonna della mamma.
Ecco perché
boh
boh
ne sa più di me, ne sa più di te.
È così fissata che tre volte al mese
lei mi porta al party e mi insegna il bridge.
Mischia il suo dialetto con laccento inglese,
e si sente la regina dInghilterra
ma non so perché a me ricorda troppo
Mister Bean.
mister chi? mister chi?
Ma Mister Bean!
ah!
noi, che siamo bambini,
vogliamo sapere
a chi ci dobbiamo rivolgere, noi.
dobbiamo ubbidire, dobbiamo ascoltare,
ma come facciamo a imparare se poi
restiamo da soli, facciamo disastri,
ci vuole qualcuno che resti con noi.
papÀ che lavora, la mamma lavora,
ma allora chi resta con noi?
cÈ la mamma della mamma che
sa tutte le invenzioni
che non sa mia mamma.
cÈ la mamma della mamma che
sa tutte le canzoni
che sa la mia mamma.
Dimmi perché
ma perchÉ
ne sa sempre più la nonna della mamma.
Dimmi perché
boh
boh
ne sa più di me, ne sa più di te.
Forse perché
ma perchÉ
è la figlia della nonna della mamma.
Ecco perché
boh
boh
ne sa più di me, ne sa più di te.
È la mamma della mamma.
È la nonna! ma che mamma!
È la mamma della mamma.
È la figlia della nonna della mamma!
Tortillitas
Tortillitas, tortillitas
Tortillitas para mama
Tortillitas para papa.
Las quemaditas para mamá;
Las bonitas pará papá
Tortillitas, tortillitas
Tortillitas para papa
Tortillitas para mama;
Tortillitas de salvado
Para papa cuando está enojado;
Tortillitas de manteca
Para mama que está contenta.
.en translation
“Tiny Tortillas”
Tiny tortillas, tiny tortillas
Tiny tortillas for mommy;
Tiny tortillas for daddy.
The brown ones for mommy;
The pretty ones for daddy.
Tiny tortillas, tiny tortillas
Tiny tortillas for daddy;
Tiny tortillas for mommy.
Bran tortillas
For daddy when he is mad;
Butter tortillas
For mommy when she is glad.
My mother, and your mother
My mother, and your mother,
Went over the way;
Said my mother, to your mother,
“It’s chop-a-nose day.”
Your Mother and Mine
From the movie Peter Pan
Well, a mother, a real mother
Is the most wonderful person in the world
She’s the angel voice that bids you goodnight
Kisses your cheek, whispers, “Sleep tight.”
Your mother and mine
Your mother and mine
The helping hand that guides you along
Whether you’re right, whether you’re wrong
Your mother and mine
Your mother and mine
What makes mothers all that they are?
Might as well ask, “What makes a star?”
Ask your heart to tell you her worth
Your heart will say, “Heaven on Earth.”
Another word for divine
Your mother and mine
Happy, Happy Mother’s Day
We have brought a song to say,
Happy, happy Mother’s Day.
No one’s mother is so nice,
Love from all your little mice.
From The Mother’s Day Mice by Eve Bunting. Sing on the tune of Twinkle, Twinkle…
The Goat with Three Kids
Here is a translation of the Romanian folktale Capra cu trei iezi by Ion Creangă. And here is a slightly modified version that I did for and with my kindercat: pdf.
Once upon a time there was a goat with three kids. The little one was hardworking and always listening to his mother. But the middle and the big kids were looking for trouble all the time.
One day, the mother goat told her kids:
- Dear kids, I have to go in the woods to bring food. Please, keep the door locked after I’ll leave and don’t open it until you hear my voice. When I am back, you’ll hear this little song:
Three kids, little kids
Open door to your mommy
Mommy’s bringing to you all
Fresh grass on the lips
Milk and salt on the back…
- Do you understand?
And all the three kids answered together:
- Yes, mama!
- So let me kiss you goodbye and I’ll be back soon with lots of goodies!
Mother goat went in the woods, the little kid locked the door and all started playing in the house.
Meanwhile, the bad wolf, having heard the conversation between the mother goat and the kids about the song, started singing the same song to the kids, hoping this way he would trick them and they would open the door to him.
Three kids, little kids
Open door to your mommy
Mommy’s bringing to you all
Fresh grass on the lips
Milk and salt on the back…
The big kid as soon as he heard the song jumped down to open the door, thinking that his mother was there!
But the little one cried:
- Don’t open the door! It’s not mother, she has a lovely voice, this one is rough and harsh!
When the wolf heard such things, he went to the blacksmith to ask him to sharp his voice! Then he came back and started singing again:
Three kids, little kids
Open door to your mommy
Mommy’s bringing to you all
Fresh grass on the lips
Milk and salt on the back…
The big kid was very sure that now it was his mama.
-Who else could be? I’ll open the door, she must be tired and full of goodies.
-My brother! I feel it’s not mama. Please, don’t open! says the little one.
But the big kid didn’t listen and opened the door! The middle kid hid under a blanket and the little one in the fireplace.
The big kid didn’t open the door well and in a blink of an eye the wolf ate it greedily. He started searching the rest of the house, he was sure that other kids must be in the house.
-Well, well…It seems to me that I’ve heard more voices. I’ll rest a little before leaving.
Then he laid on the blanket and felt something under the blanket….It was the poor middle kid! The hungry wolf ate it too.
When the wolf left, the little kid went out the fireplace, blocked the door and started crying inconsolably over his brothers.
Meanwhile, the mother goat came back home from the woods and she started to sing the song:
Three kids, little kids
Open door to your mommy
Mommy’s bringing to you all
Fresh grass on my lips
Milk and salt on my back…
The little kid jumped to open the door and fell in his mother arms, crying desperately and started to tell the sad story to his mother.
Mother goat cried and cried until she decided to punish the bad wolf. She started cooking all kind of goodies, made a hole in the garden, covered it with woods, embers and brambles and made a table and a chair in wax.
When everything was ready, she went in the forest to look for the wolf to invite him to the mourning feast. The wolf was getting some rest in the shadow of an old oak.
“Good day to you, she-goat! What brings you here?”
“A tragedy happened when I was in the woods. Somebody ate all my kids and now I came to invite you to eat something for their memory and remembrance.”
“Glad about your invitation!” says the wolf.
They went to the goats’ house, and while mother goat was crying in pain, the wolf was pretending that he was very shocked by the news and tried all the time to blame the bear for what had happened. Back at the house, mother goat invited the wolf to seat on the wax chair, and started bringing him food.
- Bon Appétit, says the goat!
- Thank you, the wolf answered politely and, being very greedy, he was eating very fast all the tasteful food.
While he was eating, the wax chair melted and the wolf fell in the fire hole!
- Get me out of here, screamed the wolf, I am burning alive!
- Burn there, wolf, like my heart burned of pain in my chest after my babies.
- Don’t let me die! Have mercy! implored the wolf.
- Did you have mercy for my kids? asked the mother goat.
The news about the wolf’s death soon traveled through the forest and were heard by all the goats. And all the goats were pleased with the well deserved end of the bad wolf.
Three Little Kittens
The True Mother Goose – Songs for the Nursery, Or, Mother Goose’s Melodies for Children. Notes and Pictures by Blanche McManus. Published by Lamson, Wolffe and Co., Boston. 1895.
