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Thread: Mario Lanza - Song of India

  1. #1
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    Default Mario Lanza - Song of India

    Doe's anyone have the lyrics to: Song of India as sung by
    Mario Lanza? been searching the 'net for years without success.
    Even tried the Mario L. fan club.

  2. #2
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    Hope this helps:


    SONG OF INDIA
    (Music: Nikolai Rimsky-Korsakov / Modern Lyrics: Johnny Mercer)

    Mario Lanza


    And still the snowy Himalayas rise
    In ancient majesty before our eyes,
    Beyond the plains, above the pines,
    While through the ever, never changing land
    As silently as any native band
    That moves at night, the Ganges Shines

    Then I hear the song that only India can sing,
    Softer than the plumage on a black raven's wing;
    High upon a minaret I stand
    Upon an old enchanted land,
    There's the Maharajah's caravan,
    Unfolding like a painted fan,
    How small the little race of Man!

    See them all parade across the ages,
    Armies, Kings and slave from hist'ry's pages,
    Played on one of nature's vastest stages.
    The turbaned Sikhs and fakirs line the streets,
    While holy men in shadowed calm retreats
    Pray through the night and watch the stars,
    A lonely plane flies off to meet the dawn,
    While down below the busy life goes on,
    And women crowd the old bazaars;

    All are in the song that only India can sing,
    Softer than the plumage on a black raven's wing;
    Tune the ageless moon and stars were strung by,
    Timeless song that only could be sung by
    India, the jewel of the East.





    Alternate version :


    And still the snowy Himalyas rise,
    In ancient majesty before our eyes,
    Beyond the plains, above the pines.
    While through the ever never changing land,
    As silently as any native band,
    That moves at night, the Ganges shine.
    Then I hear the song that only India can sing,
    Softer than the plumage on a black raven's wing.
    High upon a minaret I stand
    And gaze across the desert sand,
    Upon an old enchanted land
    There the Maharaja's caravan,
    Unfolding like a painted fan,
    How small the little race of man.
    See them all parade across the ages,
    All these kings and slaves from History's pages,
    Laid on one of Nature's vastest stages.
    The turbaned Sihks and beggars line the street,
    While holy men in shadowed calm retreat,
    Pray through the night and watch the stars,
    The loney crane flies off to meet the dawn,
    While down below the busy life goes on,
    And women crowd the old bazaar
    All are in the song that only India can sing,
    India, the jewel of the East

  3. #3
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    Here is a transcription
    of the original aria...

    http://www.grandi-tenori.com/features/am/am.2004.08.php

  4. #4
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    English transcribed lyrics:

    Do not count the diamonds in caves of stone
    Do not count the pearls in the southern sea
    Of distant India so full of wonders.
    There is a wondrous stone, a ruby set in the warm sea;
    And on that stone there is a Phoenix, a bird with the face of a maiden
    Who keeps singly songs of paradise so sweetly,
    Scattering her feathers and covering the sea.
    Whoever hears this bird will forget everything.
    Do not count the diamonds in caves of stone
    Do not count the pearls in the southern sea
    Of distant India so full of wonders.

  5. #5
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    Default Transcription by owner of original recording

    Hello People.

    As a music enthusiast, and a Computer Analyst/Programmer, I could not bear to see such inaccuracies in the lyrics of a song I grew up listening to.
    After hours of studying the music, pronumciation, and formatting, I have the following which is true to every note the late Mario Lanza sang:

    SONG OF INDIA
    Mario Lanza

    And still the snowy Himalayas rise,
    in ancient majesty before our eyes,
    beyond the plains, above the pines.
    While through the ever never changing land,
    as silently as any native band,
    that moves at night; the Ganges shines.

    Then I hear the song that only India can sing;
    softer than the plumage on a black raven's wing.

    High upon a minaret I stand
    and gaze across the desert sand
    upon an old enchanted land.
    There's the Maharajah's caravan
    unfolding like a painted fan
    how small the little race of Man!

    See them all parade across the ages,
    armies kings and slaves from hist'ry's pages,
    played on one of nature's vastest stages.
    The turbaned Sikhs and beggars line the streets,
    while holy men in shadowed calm retreats,
    pray through the night, and watch the stars.
    A lonely plane flies off to meet the dawn,
    while down below the busy life goes on,
    and women crowd the old bazaars.

    All are in the song that only India can sing;
    India, the jewel of the East!

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