Creuza de mä

Fabrizio De André & Mauro Pagani, 1984

Umbre de muri, muri de mainé
dunde ne vegnì, duve l’è ch’a né?
Da ‘n scitu duve a lûna se mustra nûa
e a neutte n’à puntou u cutellu ä gûa!
E a muntä l’àse gh’é restou Diou,
u Diàu l’é in çë e u s’è gh’è faetu u nìu!
Ne sciurtìmmu da u mä pe sciugà e osse da u Dria,
e a funtana di cumbi ‘nta cä de pria!

E anda, e anda, e anda ayo;
e anda, e anda, e anda ayo.

E ‘nt’a cä de pria chi ghe saià?
Int’à ca du Dria che u nu l’è mainà,
Gente de Lûgan: facce da mandillä,
pui che du luassu preferiscia l’ä!
Figge de famiggia: udù de bun,
che ti peu ammiàle senza u gundun!

E andà, e andà, e andà ayo;
e andà, e andà, e andà ayo.

E a ‘ste panse veue cose che daià
cose da beive, cose da mangiä,
frittûa de pigneu, giancu de Purtufin,
çervelle de bae ‘nt’u meximu vin,
lasagne da fiddià ai quattru tucchi,
paciûgu in aegruduse de lévre de cuppi.

E andà, e andà, e andà ayo;
e andà, e andà, e andà ayo.

E ‘nt’a barca du vin ghe naveghiemu ‘nsc’i scheuggi,
emigranti du rìe cu’i cioi ‘nt’i euggi!
Finché u matin crescià da puéilu rechéugge,
frè di ganeuffeni e dè figge,
bacan d’a corda marsa d’aegua e de sä,
che a ne liga e a ne porta ‘nte ‘na creuza de mä.

E andà, e andà, e andà ayo;
e andà, e andà, e andà ayo.

E andà, e andà, e andà ayo;
e andà, e andà, e andà ayo.

E andà, e andà, e andà ayo;
e andà, e andà, e andà ayo.

Alley to the Sea

Translated by: Rachel Ballenger

Shadows of faces, faces of sailors,
where are you coming from, where are you going?
From a place where the moon stands naked
and night put a knife to our throat,
where God is still riding his donkey
while the Devil has made a nest for himself in Heaven.
We come out of the sea to dry our bones at Andrea’s,
in the stone house by the doves’ fountain.

Go, go, and go;
go, go, and go.

And who will be in Andrea’s stone house,
Andrea who’s not a sailor?
Guys from Lugano, robbers’ faces,
they’d rather have the wing of the sea-bass,[1]
well-mannered girls who smell good—
you can look at them without a condom.

Go, go, and go;
go, go, and go.

So, what is Andrea going to give these empty bellies?
Something to drink, something to eat,
fried fish, Portofino white wine,
lamb’s brains cooked in the same wine,
four sauce lasagna to cut in slices,
bittersweet rabbit-on-the-roof-casserole.[2]

Go, go, and go;
go, go, and go.

And we will sail through the cliffs in that wine boat,
laughing emigrants with nails in our eyes,
until morning is so ripened that we can pick it up,
brother to the carnations and to the girls,
master to the rotten rope of water and salt
that binds us and carries us down to the alley to the sea.

Go, go, and go;
go, go, and go.

Go, go, and go;
go, go, and go.

Go, go, and go;
go, go, and go.

 

NOTES:

[1] “Having the wing from the sea-bass” means that they are always ready to “fly away” (from the police).
[2] The sailors imply that Andrea might have served them a cat (a rabbit who walks on roofs) instead.