Esmeralda
Zingara
No one country or creed is my own
Zingara
I'm the child of the road alone
Zingara, zingara
Come tomorrow, I'll seek a new land
Zingara, Zingara
Read my fate in the lines of my hand
My mother told me tales of Spain
Of golden days beneath its sun
Its blazing mountains and terrain
The plazas full of gypsy song
That's where my mother once belonged
Now she and Father are all gone
And Paris soon became my own
But when I hear that roaring foam
My wayward heart begins to roam
To my Andalusian home
Zingara
No one country or creed is my own
Zingara
I'm a child of the road alone
Zingara, zingara
Come tomorrow, I'll find a new land
Zingara, zingara
Here's my fate in the lines of my hand
Dancing barefoot through the countryside
The hills and mountains of Provincial prides
For the gypsy road is so long
The road's so long
I will follow uphill, below
Where it will lead me, where e'er I'll go
For I belong to gypsy life and song
Its life and song
The green of Spanish seas
Runs through my veins
Runs through my daydreams
The blue of Spanish skies
She bids me, "Fly"
"Come back to me now"
Zingara
No one country or creed is my own
Zingara
I'm a child of the road alone
Zingara, zingara
Come tomorrow, who knows where I'll land?
Zingara, zingara
Here's my fate in the lines of my hand
Read my fate in the lines of my hand...
Phoebus approaches her, but Clopin blocks him.
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Notre Dame de Paris
FanfictionParis, 1482. As immigrants crowd the city gates demanding asylum, the beautiful gypsy Esmeralda captures the fascination of a tormented priest, his hunchback ward, and the shallow knight Phoebus, with tragic consequences. Narrated by the mysterious...
