Fabrizio De André - 'Â çimma

 

Ti t'adesciâe 'nsce l'éndegu du matin,

Ch'á luxe a l'à 'n pé 'n tèra e l'átrù i mà...

Ti t'ammiâe a ou spégiu de 'n tianin,

Ou çé ou s'amnià a ou spegiu dâ ruzà.

Ti mettiâe ou brûggu réddenu'nte 'n cantùn,

Che se d'â cappa a sgûggia 'n cuxin-a á stria,

A xeûa de cuntà 'e págge che ghe sun,

'A çimma a l'è za pinn-a, a l'è za cûxia.

Çé serén, tèra scûa,

Carne ténia, nu fâte néigra,

Nu turnâ dûa.

Bell'oueggé, strapunta de tûttu bun,

Prima de battezála 'ntou prebuggiun,

Cun dui aguggiuîn, dritu 'n púnta de pé,

Da súrvia 'n zû, fitu ti 'a punziggè.

Àia de lûn-a végia, de ciaêu de négia,

Ch'ou cégu ou pèrde 'a testa, l'âse ou senté,

Oudú de mà miscióu de pèrsa légia,

Cos'âtru fâ? Cos'âtru dàghe a ou çé?

Çé serén, tèra scûa,

Carne ténia, nu fâte néigra,

Nu turnâ dûa.

E 'nt'ou núme de Maria,

Tûtti diaì de sta pûgnatta

Anène via!

Poi vegnan a pigiàtela i câmé,

Te lascian tûttu ou fûmmu dou toêu mesté,

Tucca a ou fantin à prima coutelà,

Mangè, mangè, nu séi chi ve mangià.

Çé serén, tèra scûa,

Carne ténia, nu fâte néigra,

Nu turnâ dûa.

E 'nt'ou núme de Maria,

Tûtti diaì de sta pûgnatta

Anène via!

Translation:

You will wake up in the indigo of morning

When the light has one foot on land and the other in the sea.

You'll look at yourself in the mirror of a frying pan,

The sky looks at itself in the mirror of rust.

You will put the well-used sorghum broom in a corner

So that, if from the stove hood a witch slips into the kitchen

Due to her counting the straws that are there,

The veal is already stuffed and already sewn.

Clear sky, dark earth,

Tender meat don’t become black,

Don’t come out tough.

Beautiful pillow, mattress of every good of God,

Before baptizing it in the aromatic herbs,

With two huge straight needles, on tiptoe,

From above to below quick you’ll prick it.

Air of full moon, of glimmer of fog,

When the clergyman loses his head and the donkey the path,

Smell of the sea mixed with light marjoram,

What else to make, what else to give to heaven?

Clear sky, dark earth,

Tender meat don’t become black,

Don’t come out tough,

And in the name of Maria

All you devils, from this pot

Go away.

Then the house servants come to take it out for you,

They leave to you all the steam of your expertise.

It’s the bachelor’s turn, the first cut -

Eat, eat, you don’t know who will eat you.

Clear sky, dark earth,

Tender meat don’t become black,

Don’t come out tough,

And in the name of Maria

All you devils, from this pot

Go away.