Sidùn
Fabrizio De AndréVersione inglese di Paolo Di Mizio | |
SIDON | SIDON |
My baby, oh my baby, your full lips in the sun like honey, like honey, sweet benign tumour of your mother’s womb squeezed in the sultry summer heat and now, just a clump of blood and ears and milk teeth | My baby, mine, mine, fat lips in the sun made of honey, honey Sweet, benign tumour that was born out of your mother, squeezed out in the damp heat of the summer, of the summer And now just a clot of blood, ears and milk teeth |
And the eyes of soldiers, those rabid dogs, with foam dribbling down their jaws, pursuing people like wild beasts, until the smell of fresh blood drives them over the edge of lust and then rifle barrels in the neck, prison bars, and in the wounds, the poisonous seed of deportation, so that on this land of ours from the plains to the shore no tree, no blade of corn, no son can ever grow | And the soldiers’ eyes like rabid dogs with foaming mouths, hunters of lambs chasing people like game until the wild blood has extinguished their instinct, and after the iron in the throat, the iron of prison and the poisonous seed of deportation seeded in the wounds so that between the plain and the harbour nothing ours can ever grow again, not a tree nor a spike nor a child. |
Farewell, my baby, our heritage is hidden in this town that is burning, burning in approaching dusk, an inferno of flames for your death so small. | Bye-bye my child, every inheritance is hidden In this burning town burning, burning in this oncoming evening in this great fire ignited for your little death. |