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Disamistade

Fabrizio De André
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La versione inglese di Dennis Criteser [2014]
DISAMISTADE

What are these souls doing
in front of the church?
These divided people,
this suspended story

An daya ho
An daya ho


An arm's length away
that is the distance of the offense
Peace is considered
but the peace is barely grazed

An daya ho
An daya ho


Two families without blood
Draw up and surrender
And for everyone involved
The pain is shared
The other's pain is half their own

The war of the heart is content
Content with empty causes
The lament of a dog struck down
by the shadow of a step

Satisfied with brief agony
Long the street of the house
An eruption of blood
An absence prepared for the meal

And with the shots of the hunter
Surrounding, one begs for one's fortune

What are our daughters doing
Embroidering and sewing
All these stains of mourning
Who've given up to love

An daya ho
An daya ho


Amid them it still hides
Our wandering hope
That the enemy desires
Desires to be returned

An daya ho
An daya ho


Hastened hands caught in the act
The act of touching other hands
There must be another way of living
Of living without pain

A rush of eyes into eyes
Only to discover, that instead
It's only the pause of the wind
It's only hatred by half

And the authority is dedicated
to the missing half

This disamistade
Is opposed to our misadventure
To this race of time
To the dishevel of our fate and fortune

What are these souls doing
In front of the church
These divided people
This suspended story.
BLOOD FEUD [1]

What are they doing, these souls
in front of the church,
this people divided,
this history on hold?

At arm's length away,
at the distance of an offence,
that peace is considered,
that peace comes close,

two unarmed blood families
line up to surrender,
and for everyone the pain of the others
is halfway pain.

It contents itself with lightweight causes,
the war of the heart:
the lament of a dog felled
by a passing shadow.

It satisfies itself with quick agonies
on the way home:
a burst of blood,
an absence set at the dinner table.

And at every gunshot of the hunt hereabouts,
one asks for good fortune.

What are these children doing
embroidering, sewing
these stains of mourning,
having given up on love?

Among them is hiding
a misplaced hope
that the enemy wants,
that he wants back.

And a rush of hands, surprised
to touch the hands,
for there must be a way to live
without sorrow.

A race of eyes, in the eyes
to discover that instead
it’s merely a resting of the wind,
a hatred halfway through,
and to the missing part
the authorities are dedicated,

that the blood feud counters
our misfortune,
this passing of time to break up a pair:
destinies and good fortune.

What are these souls doing
in front of the church,
this people divided,
this history on hold?
[1] Nell'indice delle canzoni, Dennis Criteser intitola la canzone Enmity (traduzione letterale di "Disamistade"). Il titolo che poi dà veramente alla traduzione è una sua (fortunata) interpretazione.


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