Grippaggio - Seizure

Il giorno di domani Sarà tutto per te Un goccio di caffè Una zaffata di vento Prima di voltare la testa Conterò fino a cento Ma oggi, oggi non è un giorno di festa Domani, domani, domani Domani, domani... Già oggi è domani Sabbia e sole per te Acqua verde, per me Miele su antichi dolori Dentro l'abbaiare dei cani Con violenti colori Scoppiano cieli e lampi lontani Caldo da terra bruciata Caldo da terra... La macchina è ingrippata Io e te camminiamo Tenendoci per mano A cercare un telefono Là verso il paese nascosto Da un grande verde di bosco Sciabola fitta l'aria d'agosto Su questa strada abbandonata Su questa strada abbandonata Ma non è abbandonata Sull'argine in fila Diecimila baracche E caverne di fuggitivi Occhi di ragazze e mani Di uomini vivi Escono dalla terra, con crani, fucili Una dura giornata Qua fa notte presto Giovani orsi annusano i tubi di petrolio Scuotono un ramo di pesco secco Nel cielo buchi neri Riempiti di niente O dal fuoco di questi pensieri Nell'improvvisa aria di guerra Nell'improvvisa aria di guerra Nell'improvvisa aria... Grippaggio © 1971 Lucio Dalla, Roberto Roversi In "Grippaggio," car trouble turns a day off into a frightful and other-worldly experience.

The day tomorrow will be all for you. A drop of coffee, a whiff of wind. Before turning my head I will count to a hundred. But today, today is not a holiday. Tomorrow, tomorrow, tomorrow Tomorrow, tomorrow . . . Already, today is tomorrow. Sand and sun for you, green water, for me. Honey on ancient sorrows, inside the barking of the dogs. With violent colors burst skies and far off lightning. Heat of burned earth, heat of earth . . . The car has seized up. You and I walk, holding hands and searching for a telephone. There towards the place hidden by a great woodland green, thick sabre, the air of August, on this abandoned road, on this abandoned road. But it isn’t abandoned. On the bank in a row, ten thousand huts and caverns of fugitives, eyes of girls and hands of living men come out from the earth, with skulls, rifles, a hard day. Here night comes early. Young bears sniff the oil pipelines, they shake a branch of dry peach. In the sky black holes filled with nothing, or by the fire of these thoughts in the sudden air of war, in the sudden air of war, in the sudden air . . . English translation © 2020 Dennis Criteser Il giorno aveva cinque teste was Dalla's fourth album and the first of a trio of albums in partnership with the poet Roberto Roversi. Before this album, Dalla's main partners as lyricists were Sergio Bardotti, Gianfranco Baldazzi, and Paola Pallottino. But Dalla was tired of writing songs he considered little more than simple ditties (his first love was jazz), and he wanted to develop a new approach with weightier lyrics. The new collaboration with Roversi allowed Dalla to explore new realms of composition, freer and more experimental. While sales were low, the album was well-received by critics and fellow musicians, and helped put Dalla on the map as an important emerging artist. The fruitful relationship with Roversi ended after their third album, over lyrics that the label wanted to tone down; Dalla was amenable, but Roversi was outraged and the album was released using a pseudonym for the poet.