Learn Italian With Elisa with these 18 Song Recommendations (Full Translations Included!)

Imagine a delicate filo di seta (silk thread) tying you to someone, then picture that thread snapping and tumbling giù, giù, giù into the dark depths of the ocean. Elisa’s powerful ballad turns this image into a quest for lost connection and self-belief. Each verse asks where fear crept in, where patience dissolved, and where love slipped away, while the pounding refrain mimics the plunge into emotional "abysses" that feel as vast as the universe itself.

Rather than accepting the break, the singer vows to dive after the missing thread, searching the shadows for courage, grace, and hope. The song becomes both a heart-tugging plea to a distant companion and a rallying cry for personal rediscovery. Overture / Un Filo Di Seta Negli Abissi reminds us that even when relationships fray and inner light dims, we can choose to chase what was lost, stitch the thread back together, and resurface stronger than before.

Picture this: a sun-soaked coastal road (“la litoranea”), cars honking, people chatting, waves glittering in the distance… and one restless heart trying to outrun its own thoughts. In Litoranea, Elisa and Matilda De Angelis turn a simple seaside stroll into a vivid movie scene where confusion is the main character. The fridge holds a lonely half-orange soda, the streets are full of runners, and every sound reminds the singer of the person who is suddenly miles away. That short stretch of coastline feels chaotic because love, distance, and memory are colliding all at once.

Yet beneath the bustle, the song pulses with hope and playful irony. Elisa admits the separation makes her love even stronger, compares their faces and beaches as “the same thing” divided only by millimeters, and invites the other to “rise with the rhythm” that keeps building like a summer anthem. It is a mental game, as bright and shifting as TV colors, capturing how break-ups can feel surreal, cinematic, even exhilarating. Litoranea is the soundtrack of getting lost on purpose—walking all the way to the water, phone in hand—because sometimes the only way to breathe again is to dance through the confusion. 🎧🌊🚶‍♀️

In “O Forse Sei Tu”, Portuguese songstress Elisa paints a dreamy picture of love so intense that it bends reality. Time seems to pause, vertigo turns into thrill, and even everyday billboards glow with new meaning. The singer wonders whether this newfound magic comes from the sky’s brighter colors… or from that special someone who suddenly makes everything feel like spring.

Throughout the song she pledges to be a constant spark of joy for her partner: the laugh in an ad, the twinkle of city lights, the tiny moment that delivers a "piccola felicità". The refrain celebrates that “stupid urge to live” which only genuine connection can ignite. “O Forse Sei Tu” is, at its heart, an exuberant reminder that when love arrives, the ordinary world turns extraordinary—and maybe, just maybe, it’s all because of you.

A Modo Tuo (which means In Your Own Way) is Elisa’s tender love letter from a parent to a child. Over a lively, hope-filled melody, the Portuguese singer captures that bittersweet moment when you realize your little one is sprinting toward the future faster than you can keep up. Each verse paints everyday scenes — birthday candles, first falls, traffic lights to dodge — that symbolize the great adventure of growing up. The parent promises guidance while admitting, with a smile, that the child will learn most lessons by stumbling, standing, and laughing in their own way.

The song’s heart beats with two powerful feelings: unconditional support and the ache of letting go. Elisa reassures her child that mistakes are welcome souvenirs on the road to self-discovery, yet she also confesses how hard it is to watch from the sidelines. The chorus rises like a warm hug, repeating the mantra “Andrai, a modo tuo” — “You’ll go, in your own way” — reminding us that true love isn’t about steering someone’s journey but celebrating it, cheering at every fall and every triumphant step.

L'Anima Vola (The Soul Flies) invites us to imagine our inner spirit spreading its wings and gliding through fresh air. Elisa sings about a love that isn’t built on gifts or grand gestures; what matters is seeing and being seen for who we truly are. The soul is portrayed as a free, fearless traveler that can stand on its own yet joyfully returns to the person it desires. Like a gentle breeze, a single kiss may arrive softly, but it can still set everything in motion.

The song celebrates authenticity, courage and presence in the moment. Elisa reminds us that when two hearts recognize each other – even in the middle of “a thousand storms” – they don’t need anything more than a shared instant to feel complete. The soul doesn’t hide, fade or get lost for long; it dares, it dances and, above all, it always finds its way back to the love that lets it soar.

Elisa, the soulful artist from Portugal, teams up with Giuliano Sangiorgi to paint a vivid picture of love as a liberating force. The singer is stunned into silence by her partner’s presence, comparing the feeling to a sudden springtime and a golden sunbeam that makes the heart “light as air.” Throughout the song she repeats “Ti vorrei sollevare” — “I want to lift you up” — a promise to comfort and protect someone whose faith in love has been shaken. She admits to moments of fear and self–doubt (“For a moment I even wished it were true that I can’t feel anymore”), yet the chorus rises like paper wings catching the wind, inviting her partner to travel, invent, and face life’s gusts together instead of hiding.

As the two lovers stand “lost beneath a thousand stars,” they ask the ancient question, “Cos’è l’amore?” — “What is love?” The answer comes in a gentle plea: hold each other tighter, keep our hearts close, and let love make us weightless. In just a few verses, the song moves from vulnerability to soaring hope, reminding listeners that real love is both a refuge and a launchpad for boundless imagination.

Imagine standing on a cliff in Portugal at sunset, the Atlantic breeze weaving through the trees while the sky chats tenderly with the earth. That is the atmosphere Elisa paints in "Luce (Tramonti A Nord Est)": a luminous conversation between two hearts who share the very same tear. She sings of vulnerability — “I have no defenses” — yet celebrates the daring choice to be free. Light falls from her eyes like stars sliding over northern-eastern sunsets, turning personal emotion into a vast, glowing landscape.

In this song, nature is both messenger and mirror. The sun, the moon, and the wind all whisper reminders of love’s power to heal and guide. Elisa asks the listener to listen — to her, to themselves, to the pulse of honest feeling — promising that when we care for what is given, new days will rise. "Luce" is ultimately a hymn to shared resilience: even within a tear, we shine together like a sun and a star, lighting the way toward tomorrow.

Ancora Qui (which means Here Again) is Elisa’s heartfelt postcard from the past to the present. In gentle, soaring lines she greets a familiar face that keeps re-appearing in her life, almost like a ghost woven from memories. She now knows who this person truly is, yet every reunion still feels magical: old questions return, shared moments resurface, and the bond refuses to fade. The song invites us to stand in that delicate space where love, forgiveness, and nostalgia blur together, reminding us that time can bend but genuine connection never really breaks.

Wrapped in vivid imagery—green grass under bare feet, warm air swirling between bright flowers, cotton-white clouds racing across a blue sky—Elisa paints the scene of an eternal springtime. Nature mirrors the relationship: winds shift, colors change, yet something essential stays the same. By repeating “Ritornerai, ritornerò” (“You will return, I will return”) she promises that both hearts will keep finding their way back, carrying the sweet ache of yesterday into the hope of tomorrow.

Anche Se Non Trovi Le Parole ("Even If You Can’t Find the Words") is Elisa’s vibrant reminder that life is a breathtaking mix of stumbles and soaring moments. The Portuguese artist paints emotion as a force that leaves a permanent mark—“like music, like pain.” Across the verses she celebrates every imperfect dip and triumphant rise, comparing our inner journey to circumnavigating an entire world held inside a single, beating heart.

At its core, the song is an anthem of resilience and self-trust. Even when words fail, sleep disappears, or fresh starts feel impossible, Elisa urges us to keep leaping “like an elastic” and to thank ourselves for staying true. It’s an invitation to let go of overthinking, believe in your timing, and embrace the thrill of living—because your heart already knows the way.

Have you ever caught yourself chasing an invisible “something,” only to miss the sunshine right in front of you? That is exactly the heart-felt confession in Qualcosa Che Non C’è (“Something That Isn’t There”). Elisa sings about years of self-doubt and the restless search for perfection: Am I really good enough the way I am? She remembers the childhood moment when she promised to make the world dream with her music, yet she later realizes she has been standing still, waiting for an illusion instead of greeting each sunrise. The song gently warns us about noisy distractions—fast-moving crowds, careless words—while celebrating the stubborn power of dreaming and hoping anyway.

The turning point is Elisa’s luminous secret: live as if you can see only the sun. When we act “as if” the light is already shining, we stop obsessing over what is missing and start embracing the present. The song becomes a motivational anthem that invites you to swap anxiety for creativity, impatience for wonder, and doubt for a bright, sun-soaked outlook on life.

Bruciare Per Te feels like stepping into a galaxy where every star is a heartbeat. Elisa sings about an emotion so vast she can barely take it all in: “Talmente tanto che semplicemente non lo so vedere per intero / Come l'universo.” The song captures that dizzy mix of euphoria and confusion you feel when a love you never expected suddenly lights up your world. It is a flame that both dazzles and disorients, making you question what you were before while celebrating what you have become.

At its core, the track is a tender paradox. Love is portrayed as “forte così fragile”—strong enough to endure yet delicate enough to float like clouds. Elisa marvels that she can give every part of herself without asking for anything back, because everything she needs is already mirrored in her partner. Bruciare per te (to burn for you) is not about losing oneself in the fire; it is about shining brighter together, writing new pages side by side and discovering that even vulnerability can be unbreakable when shared.

“Seta” invites us into the exciting blur of a late-night adventure, where every small sensation feels magnified. Elisa compares emotions to everyday images: reading the future in coffee grounds, dancing barefoot with the radio blaring, and a simple copper wire miraculously turning into silk. These snapshots reveal how a spark of attraction can make the ordinary shimmer, turning nerves and uncertainty into something smooth, elegant, and unforgettable.

At its heart, the song is about transformation through connection. The floor seems to crumble when she steps into her lover’s world, insecurities grow large then melt away with an electric kiss, and clumsy words float light as bubbles. Even silver can tarnish, yet feelings keep renewing themselves as long as two people dare to hold hands tighter, sing off-key, and let the night carry them. “Seta” reminds us that love is messy, thrilling alchemy—raw copper becoming silk in the dark.

“Palla Al Centro” feels like the referee’s whistle that sends life back into play. Elisa, the Portuguese songstress, urges us to stop chasing labels and final answers, look up from our screens, and enjoy the suspense of what comes next. Each time we stumble is only a prelude to standing up stronger, so she shouts the playful command “palla al centro” – put the ball in the middle, restart the match, and keep moving.

The lyrics overflow with imagery that turns individual freedom into a shared adventure: we are waves in a vast sea, stars over the Andes, marching bands in vibrant parades, winds racing across the Pyrenees. By trading worry for wonder and perfectionism for authenticity, Elisa paints a world where one brave step can become a joyful leap and every fresh kickoff is a chance to be “free like the wind.”

Blu Part II plunges us into a daydream painted in shades of blue, where Elisa and Rkomi confess every promise left hanging in mid-air. The lyrics juggle vivid images: a trip that never happened, a lonely rose on the bed, rivers that “never become the sea.” These symbols echo an inner restlessness, the feeling of carrying unanswered questions and half-spoken words. Even when the outside world explodes in carnival colors, the singers retreat to a “bed of leaves,” a secret hideout where they can nurse their bruised hearts and muster the courage to keep moving.

Yet the song is far from hopeless. By admitting their fears and painting their emotions blue, Elisa and Rkomi discover a quiet strength. They remember that “somewhere my tribe exists,” hinting at the universal quest for belonging. Love is messy, sometimes loud in its silence, but the duo vows to “defend” themselves, certain that a new refuge—and new people who understand them—are out there. Wrapped in soft melodies and rap-tinted verses, Blu Part II invites listeners to float along those stubborn rivers, trust their own resilience, and believe that every shade of blue can still lead to light.

“Se Piovesse Il Tuo Nome” feels like wandering through a crowded city with an unquenchable thirst, because the only drink that matters is the mere sound of a loved one’s name. Elisa paints two contrasting worlds: the external buzz of fountains, shops, and train stations, and the inner desert of someone who hasn’t yet heard the right words from a partner. She imagines letters of that special name falling from the sky, drop by drop, finally soothing the drought in her mouth and blooming into a flower of hope.

At its heart, the song captures the ache of unspoken feelings and missed connections. The narrator admits to never sharing “the right songs” or “the right words,” yet she still holds on to a romantic quest—prepared to pay any price, switch stations, and brave the confusion of a metropolis if it means catching even a single syllable of the one she loves. It’s a poetic reminder that sometimes the simplest gestures—saying a name, singing a song—can turn personal deserts into lush gardens of possibility.

Anche Fragile ("Also Fragile") finds Portuguese singer-songwriter Elisa pulling back the curtain on her toughest facade and asking for genuine, heartfelt connection. In the lyrics she admits, "sono forte, sì / ma poi sono anche fragile" — I am strong, yes, but then I’m also fragile. She pleads for simple moments that steady her when she is about to fall: sitting together and talking, dancing by the sea, sharing a forbidden ice cream. These snapshots reveal her belief that love is not built on grand gestures but on seeing each other with both eyes and heart, laughing together, and even shedding tears side by side.

At its core the song is a tender reminder that true intimacy means accepting contradictions. Elisa celebrates dreams without borders, rejects rigid labels, and invites her partner to explore how far they can go together. By openly acknowledging vulnerability, she turns it into a source of strength, showing learners that embracing every layer of oneself — the brave and the breakable — is what makes life “bello e speciale,” beautiful and special.

Vivere Tutte Le Vite ("Living All the Lives") is Elisa and Carl Brave’s joyful reminder that you do not need to tick every box on an imaginary life-achievement list to feel complete. Elisa opens the song lying under daylight, her eyes “drowned in the world,” finally free from the melancholy that once dragged her down. She sings that she no longer chases every victory, every destination, or a perfectly unscarred heart; what matters is soaking up the present moment until even her fears turn paper-thin.

Carl Brave jumps in like a candid movie scene: he spots a girl in a half-empty bar, flirts over playful soccer metaphors, and invites her on a sushi date even though he is a lifelong pasta fan. His verse paints the thrill of spontaneous connection—proof that life’s magic is often found in the small, imperfect details. Together, the artists celebrate choosing one real, vibrant life right now instead of endlessly chasing alternate versions. The message is clear: seize what is bigger than you, risk the scratches, and do not let even a single moving leaf slip past unnoticed.

Ti Vorrei Sollevare ("I’d Like to Lift You Up") is a heartfelt promise to pick someone up when life feels heavy. Elisa paints vivid pictures of springtime light, golden sunsets, and weightless hearts to show how a single connection can transform darkness into hope. Each line bursts with the rush of new feelings: silence broken by love, a soul awakened, and the wish to console the other person before time sweeps them both away.

Beyond simple comfort, the song dreams big. Elisa invites her companion to “viaggiare su ali di carta”—to travel on paper wings—where imagination is their ticket and the wind becomes a playful guide. Under star-filled skies they ask the timeless question, “Cos’è l’amore?” and find their answer in holding each other close. The result is an uplifting anthem about rescuing one another, daring to dream together, and discovering that love’s truest power is shared strength and wonder.