Lingua   

North Country Blues

Bob Dylan
Pagina della canzone con tutte le versioni


OriginaleVersione italiana / Italian version / Version italienne / Italiankielinen...
NORTH COUNTRY BLUESBLUES DELLA TERRA DEL NORD
Come gather 'round friends
And I'll tell you a tale
Of when the red iron pits ran plenty.
But the cardboard filled windows
And old men on the benches
Tell you now that the whole town is empty.
Venite qui intorno per voi ho una storia
La fonderia che pulsava
I vecchi seduti sopra le panche
E la città che spariva
In the north end of town,
My own children are grown
But I was raised on the other.
In the wee hours of youth,
My mother took sick
And I was brought up by my brother.
Nella parte più a nord sono nati i miei figli
Più a sud io sono cresciuta
Quand’ero bambina mia madre ammalò
E fui dal fratello allevata
The iron ore poured
As the years passed the door,
The drag lines an' the shovels they was a-humming.
'Til one day my brother
Failed to come home
The same as my father before him.
La fonderia pulsava più forte
Gli anni via come magia
Ronzavano pale e scavatrici
Un giorno mio padre andò via
Well a long winter's wait,
From the window I watched.
My friends they couldn't have been kinder.
And my schooling was cut
As I quit in the spring
To marry John Thomas, a miner.
Tutto l’inverno aspettai alla finestra
Gli amici mi davano il cuore
La scuola poi l’abbandonai
Sposai un bel minatore
Oh the years passed again
And the givin' was good,
With the lunch bucket filled every season.
What with three babies born,
The work was cut down
To a half a day's shift with no reason.
Noi eravamo felici e contenti
La pentola piena e beata
Ma poi il lavoro ci fu dimezzato
Con turni di mezza giornata
Then the shaft was soon shut
And more work was cut,
And the fire in the air, it felt frozen.
'Til a man come to speak
And he said in one week
That number eleven was closin'.
Il pozzo fu chiuso e il lavoro finì
L’aria si fece gelata
Un giorno un uomo ci venne a parlare
La nove l’avrebbe fermata
They complained in the East,
They are paying too high.
They say that your ore ain't worth digging.
That it's much cheaper down
In the South American towns
Where the miners work almost for nothing.
Quelli del nord non sono contenti
Il nostro metallo non vale
Quello del sud è più conveniente
Del trenta per cento al quintale
So the mining gates locked
And the red iron rotted
And the room smelled heavy from drinking.
Where the sad, silent song
Made the hour twice as long
As I waited for the sun to go sinking.
Così la miniera chiuse i cancelli
Puzzo di whisky più forte
La triste canzone avvolgeva le ore
Di peggio c’è solo la morte
I lived by the window
As he talked to himself,
This silence of tongues it was building.
Then one morning's wake,
The bed it was bare,
And I's left alone with three children.
Vivo pensando e lui parla a se stesso
Silenzi crudeli e assassini
Una mattina il letto fu vuoto
Rimasi coi miei tre bambini
The summer is gone,
The ground's turning cold,
The stores one by one they're a-foldin'.
My children will go
As soon as they grow.
Well, there ain't nothing here now to hold them.
L’estate è sparita l’inverno è più freddo
Si stanno spengendo le stelle
Anche i miei figli fra un po’ se ne andranno
In cerca di storie più belle
Cover metrica


Pagina della canzone con tutte le versioni

Pagina principale CCG


hosted by inventati.org