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Dammi due etti di ragazzetti, maschietti infetti da manie di elmetti e lame tra denti stretti, mettici tipi eclettici in forma, uniforme, firme per dare forma all'arma, farmacia che cura l'avaria del mondo, "col kaiser!" ti rispondo, se preservi te lo sfondo il condom, sullo sfondo il count down, é la fine! Bimbi sotto bombe, feriti da dinamiti e mine, mani armate, dita amputate, "mirate, puntate, fuoco!": crollano i corpi in gioco per così poco, cocco bello cocco sciocco, spari ai fratelli, Rocco? Vatte a colquà che le coperte te le rimbocco io, che preferisco granite a granate, vinili a fucili, marce nuziali a marcie di esaltati vili commilitoni, militi ignoti proni, calpestati da anfibi scampati a vicine esplosioni. Se il conflitto fosse la soluzione ai miei problemi, io sarei sempre in conflitto. Signorsì signore si muore per cose futili, signore aiutami, tirami fuori uccidimi, liberami da crimini, dai leader dei disordini che fanno i sordi, da chi dà gli ordini. Da perfetto discolo disobbedisco l'odio che impartiscono, preferisco esser dissanguato dal fisco che dal cecchino nascosto, mostro un disappunto che appunto con l'inchiostro; meglio morto che fantasma come ghost, evito nel pre ciò che succede nel post, quisque faber est fortunae suae, ma per mia fortuna le fortune mie non le esercito in esercito, ma mi é lecito un dubbio, se la mia donna caga missili io la ripudio come ripudio chi va sul podio e non in battaglia perché tanto un'altro in culo se lo piglia. Se il conflitto fosse la soluzione ai miei problemi, io sarei sempre in conflitto. Mi basta essere afflitto da un conflitto interiore che mi tiene per ore a pensare al modo migliore di vivere, non so se piangere o ridere, troppe vipere, fuori conquistatori di terre libere. Abili manipolatori d'animi muovono mani di validi umani che unanimi sanno l'abc di come fottere i nemici, per il nostro bene come medici, divise come camici, credici, sembrano racconti inverosimili, jet invisibili, ordigni indegni degli ingegni dell'uomo e dei suoi simili e tu che li esalti, cazzo ti esalti? Temili, bello, temili, vogliono te quelli li, vedi che ti impigli nei discorsi bellici? Belli ci siamo rendiamoci conto, o si va tutti al fronte o si fa dietro-front! Se il conflitto fosse la soluzione ai miei problemi, io sarei sempre in conflitto. Il conflitto © 2000 Caparezza |
Give me half a pound of kids, little boys infected with a mania for helmets and blades between clenched teeth, get eclectic types in shape, uniform, signed up to give form to the weapon – pharmacy that treats the breakdown of the world. “With the Kaiser!” I respond to you, if you protect yourself I’ll break through the condom, in the background the count down, it’s the end! Toddlers under bombs, injured by dynamite and mines, armed hands, amputated fingers, “Ready, aim, fire!” – the bodies collapse in play for so little, beautiful little darling, foolish little darling, are you shooting at your brothers, Rocco? Go lie down that I will tuck you in under the covers, I who prefer slushees to grenades, vinyl to rifles, wedding marches to the rot of vile hotheads, fellow soldiers, Unknown Soldiers prone, trampled by combat boots, survivors of nearby explosions. If conflict were the solution to my problems, I would always be in conflict. Yes, sir, the gentleman dies for trivial things, help me sir, get me out of here, kill me, liberate me from crimes, from the leaders of disorder who turn deaf ears, from whoever gives the orders. As a perfect brat I disobey the hatred they impart, I prefer to be drained of blood by the taxman than by the hidden sniper, I show disappointment that I jot down with ink; better dead than a ghost-like phantasm, I avoid in the pre what happens in the post, everyone is the crafter of his own fortune, but to my good fortune, my fortunes won’t be exercised in the army. But a legitimate doubt comes to me – if my woman shits missiles, I’ll repudiate her like I repudiate whoever goes to the podium, not into battle, because really someone else will take it in the ass. If conflict were the solution to my problems, I would always be in conflict. Enough of being afflicted by an internal conflict that keeps me thinking for hours about the best way to live, I don’t know whether to cry or to laugh, too many snakes, outside, conquerors of open lands. Capable manipulators of feelings move hands of valid humans who, of one mind, know the ABCs of how to fuck the enemies, for our benefit like medics, uniforms like shirts, believe it, they seem like implausible tales, invisible jets, devices unworthy of the talents of man and his like, and you who exalts them, the fuck, do you exalt yourself? Fear them, fine man, fear them, they want you, those there, do you see that you’re getting entangled in words of war? Fine people, we’re here, let’s face it, either everyone goes to the front or does an about face! If conflict were the solution to my problems, I would always be in conflict. English translation © 2017 Dennis Criteser Michele Salvemini began his musical career in 1995 as Mikimix, trying unsuccessfully to break into Italy's pop mainstream as a rap artist. From 1998 to 2000 he reworked his image and his music at home in his garage, and ?! presented the fruits of his labors, unveiled under his new nome d'arte - Caparezza, which means "curly head" in his local Molfetta dialect. |
I began exploring Italian popular songs as part of learning Italian. Here are my translations for some of my favorite "canzoni" by Italian singers, songwriters, and bands whose work I admire. It's a work in progress that can serve as a curated introduction to Italian popular music, with an emphasis on the 1950s through the 1990s. If you speak Italian, send me a message if you see lyrics I've misunderstood.
