When the day was done,
My little son
Wondered at bath-time why I kissed him so,
Naked upon my knee.
How could he know
The sudden terror that affronted me?...
The body I had borne
Nine moons beneath my heart,
A part of me…
If, someday,
It should be taken away
To War. Tortured. Torn.
Slain.
Rotting in No Man's Land, out in the rain—
My little son…
Rotting in No Man's Land, out in the rain—
My little son…
Yet all those men had mothers, every one.
Yet all those men had mothers, every one.
How should he know
Why I kissed and kissed and kissed him, crooning his name?
He thought that I was daft.
He thought it was a game,
And laughed, and laughed.
My little son
Wondered at bath-time why I kissed him so,
Naked upon my knee.
How could he know
The sudden terror that affronted me?...
The body I had borne
Nine moons beneath my heart,
A part of me…
If, someday,
It should be taken away
To War. Tortured. Torn.
Slain.
Rotting in No Man's Land, out in the rain—
My little son…
Rotting in No Man's Land, out in the rain—
My little son…
Yet all those men had mothers, every one.
Yet all those men had mothers, every one.
How should he know
Why I kissed and kissed and kissed him, crooning his name?
He thought that I was daft.
He thought it was a game,
And laughed, and laughed.
Langue: anglais
A WAR FILM
I saw,
With a catch of the breath and the heart's uplifting,
Sorrow and pride,
The 'week's great draw'—
The Mons Retreat;
The 'Old Contemptibles' who fought and died,
The horror and the anguish and the glory.
As in a dream,
Still hearing the machine-guns rattle and shells scream,
I came out into the street.
When the day was done,
My little son
Wondered at bath-time why I kissed him so,
Naked upon my knee.
How could he know
The sudden terror that assaulted me?...
The body I had borne
Nine moons beneath my heart,
A part of me…
If, someday,
It should be taken away
To War. Tortured. Torn.
Slain.
Rotting in No Man's Land, out in the rain—
My little son…
Yet all those men had mothers, every one.
How should he know
Why I kissed and kissed and kissed him, crooning his name?
He thought that I was daft.
He thought it was a game,
And laughed, and laughed.
I saw,
With a catch of the breath and the heart's uplifting,
Sorrow and pride,
The 'week's great draw'—
The Mons Retreat;
The 'Old Contemptibles' who fought and died,
The horror and the anguish and the glory.
As in a dream,
Still hearing the machine-guns rattle and shells scream,
I came out into the street.
When the day was done,
My little son
Wondered at bath-time why I kissed him so,
Naked upon my knee.
How could he know
The sudden terror that assaulted me?...
The body I had borne
Nine moons beneath my heart,
A part of me…
If, someday,
It should be taken away
To War. Tortured. Torn.
Slain.
Rotting in No Man's Land, out in the rain—
My little son…
Yet all those men had mothers, every one.
How should he know
Why I kissed and kissed and kissed him, crooning his name?
He thought that I was daft.
He thought it was a game,
And laughed, and laughed.
Langue: italien
Traduzione italiana di Lorenzo Masetti
FILM DI GUERRA
Quando finiva il giorno,
mio figlio piccolo
mi chiese all'ora del bagno perché lo baciassi così,
nudo sulle mia ginocchia.
Come poteva sapere
Il terrore improvviso che mi prese?...
Il bambino che avevo generato
Nove lune sotto al mio cuore
una parte di me...
Se, un giorno
dovesse essere portato via
Alla Guerra. Torturato. Dilaniato.
Trucidato.
A marcire nella Terra di Nessuno, fuori nella pioggia
il mio piccolo figlio
A marcire nella Terra di Nessuno, fuori nella pioggia
Il mio piccolo figlio...
Eppure tutti quegli uomini avevano delle madri, ognuno di loro
Eppure tutti quegli uomini avevano delle madri, ognuno di loro.
Come poteva sapere
Perché l'ho baciato e baciato e baciato, cantinelando il suo nome?
Pensò che fossi una sciocca
E pensò che fosse un gioco
E rise, e rise.
Quando finiva il giorno,
mio figlio piccolo
mi chiese all'ora del bagno perché lo baciassi così,
nudo sulle mia ginocchia.
Come poteva sapere
Il terrore improvviso che mi prese?...
Il bambino che avevo generato
Nove lune sotto al mio cuore
una parte di me...
Se, un giorno
dovesse essere portato via
Alla Guerra. Torturato. Dilaniato.
Trucidato.
A marcire nella Terra di Nessuno, fuori nella pioggia
il mio piccolo figlio
A marcire nella Terra di Nessuno, fuori nella pioggia
Il mio piccolo figlio...
Eppure tutti quegli uomini avevano delle madri, ognuno di loro
Eppure tutti quegli uomini avevano delle madri, ognuno di loro.
Come poteva sapere
Perché l'ho baciato e baciato e baciato, cantinelando il suo nome?
Pensò che fossi una sciocca
E pensò che fosse un gioco
E rise, e rise.
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Musica di Adrian McNally (2018)
Album: Lines Part Two: World War One I interamente dedicato alla Grande Guerra. (2019)
Folk Radio