Dialogo / Un'idea - Dialogue / An Idea

- Chi sei? - Mah, non so - Chi sei? - Sono un non so - L’ironia è un’arma della borghesia, chi sei? - Sono, sono uno che scrive - Ah, sei un poeta - Beh, chiamami come ti pare - Un poeta rivoluzionario - Sì, rivoluzionario - E di cosa parli? - Parlo dell’uomo, dei suoi rapporti, dell’amore, parlo di un albero - Ah di un albero, era lì che ti aspettavo, ma non lo sai che parlare di un albero in tempo di rivoluzione, è come tradire la rivoluzione? - C’è la rivoluzione? - Non fare lo spiritoso, parlavo dell’impegno, dell’impegno ideologico - Questa l’ho già sentita eh - L’hai già sentita ma non l’hai imparata - Non è che non l’ho imparata, è che a me non interessa il cervello che va va chissà dove, deve passare di qui dentro, è l’istinto che mi interessa, lo stomaco - Aah lo stomaco, era lì che ti aspettavo - E ma tu mi aspetti sempre da tutte le parti - Per forza, fai ancora il discorso sui sentimenti, sui dolori, lo so dove vuoi arrivare, ma credi veramente di servire a qualcosa? - Mah non so, servo a qualcosa? Dite, ditelo voi, servo a qualcosa? Non dicono. - Non servi a niente, sei un poeta borghese, ti rinchiudi in te, non riesci a tirar fuori un’idea, modificarla cambiarla. - Un’idea, cambiarla modificarla elaborarla, non ci vuole mica tanto È cambiarsi davvero, è cambiarsi di dentro che è un’altra cosa Un’idea un concetto un’idea finché resta un’idea è soltanto un’astrazione se potessi mangiare un’idea avrei fatto la mia rivoluzione In Virginia il signor Brown era l’uomo più antirazzista un giorno sua figlia sposò un uomo di colore lui disse bene ma non era di buon umore Ad una conferenza di donne femministe si parlava di prender coscienza e di liberazione tutte cose giuste per un’altra generazione Un’idea un concetto un’idea finché resta un’idea è soltanto un’astrazione se potessi mangiare un’idea avrei fatto la mia rivoluzione Su un libro di psicologia ho imparato a educare mio figlio se cresce libero il bimbo è molto più contento l’ho lasciato fare m’è venuto l’esaurimento Un mio amico voleva impostare la famiglia in un modo nuovo e disse a sua moglie se vuoi mi puoi anche tradire lei lo tradì lui non riusciva più a dormire Un’idea un concetto un’idea finché resta un’idea è soltanto un’astrazione se potessi mangiare un’idea avrei fatto la mia rivoluzione Aveva tante idee era un uomo d’avanguardia si vestiva di nuova cultura e cambiava ogni momento ma quand’era nudo era un uomo dell’ottocento Ho voluto andare ad una manifestazione i compagni la lotta di classe tante cose belle che ho nella testa ma non ancora nella pelle Un’idea un concetto un’idea finché resta un’idea è soltanto un’astrazione se potessi mangiare un’idea avrei fatto la mia rivoluzione la mia rivoluzione la mia rivoluzione © 1973 - Giorgio Gaber (music, lyrics) and Sandro Luporini (lyrics)

- Who are you? - But, I don’t know. - Who are you? - I’m a know nothing. - Irony is a weapon of the bourgeoisie, who are you? – I’m, I’m someone who writes. - Ah, you’re a poet. - Well, call me what you want. - A revolutionary poet. - Yes, revolutionary. - And what do you talk about? - I talk about man, his relationships, about love, I talk about a tree. - Ah, about a tree, it was there I was waiting for you, but don’t you know that talking about a tree in a time of revolution, it’s like betraying the revolution? - Is there a revolution? - Don’t be funny, I was talking about engagement, about ideological engagement. - This I already heard about, eh? - You already heard about it but you never learned it. – It’s not that I never learned it, it’s that I’m not interested in the brain that goes about who knows where, it has to pass inside, it’s instinct that interests me, the stomach. - Ahh, the stomach, it was there I was waiting for you. - But you wait for me always everywhere. - Out of necessity, you still make discourse on feelings, on sufferings, I know where you want to arrive, but do you really believe it serves a purpose? - But I don’t know, do I serve a purpose? You say, you say it, do I serve a purpose? They don’t say. - You’re good for nothing, a bourgeois poet, you close yourself inside, unable to bring out an idea, modify it, change it. - An idea, to change it, modify it, elaborate on it, it doesn’t take all that much. It’s to truly change, it’s to change inside that is something else again. An idea, a concept, an idea, as long as it remains an idea it’s only an abstraction. If I could eat an idea, I would have made my revolution. In Virginia, Mr. Brown was the most anti-racist man. One day his daughter married a colored man. He said fine, but he wasn’t in a good mood. At a conference of feminist women, there was talk of raising consciousness and of liberation, all just things for a different generation. An idea, a concept, an idea, as long as it remains an idea it’s only an abstraction. If I could eat an idea, I would have made my revolution. Based on a psychology book, I learned how to raise my son. If he grows up free, the child is much more content. I let him be, exhaustion came to me. A friend of mine wanted to configure the family in a new way and said to his wife if you want you can cheat on me. She cheated on him, he couldn't sleep anymore. An idea, a concept, an idea, as long as it remains an idea it’s only an abstraction. If I could eat an idea, I would have made my revolution. He had so many idea, he was a man of the avant-garde. He dressed like the new culture and he changed every moment. But when he was naked, he was a man of the 1800s. I wanted to go to a demonstration, comrades, class struggle, so many fine things that I have in my head but not yet in my skin. An idea, a concept, an idea, as long as it remains an idea it’s only an abstraction. If I could eat an idea, I would have made my revolution. My revolution, my revolution. English translation © 2024 Dennis Criteser Dialogo tra un impegnato e un non so (Dialogue Between a Culture Warrior and a Know Nothing) is the first album that records Gaber's live teatro canzone (theater song) performances, which he began exploring in 1970. Feeling hemmed in by the formulas of popular music and the restrictions on expression from censorship, he decided to trade popularity and money for a freer and more vital artistic life. In this double album, the dialogue is, according to Gaber, between two personalities with very different ways of confronting life: "on the one hand, the poet, let's say somewhat bourgeois, with his problems, his suffering, his things, a little smug, a little narcissistic; on the other hand, the man who is liberated from his individual baggage to give a total and collective sense to his own life."