“Io non mi sento italiano”, G.G.

I, G. G., was born and I live in Milan

(Io G. G. sono nato e vivo a Milano)

I don’t feel italian

(Io non mi sento italiano)

but for better or for worse, I am.

(ma per fortuna o purtroppo lo sono)

I’m sorry, mr President,

(Mi scusi Presidente)

It’s not my fault

(non è per colpa mia)

but I don’t know what this homeland is

(ma questa nostra Patria
non so che cosa sia)

I may be wrong

(Può darsi che mi sbagli)

that may be a good idea

(che sia una bella idea)

But I’m afraid
it’ll became a bad poem

(ma temo che diventi
una brutta poesia)

I’m sorry, mr President

(Mi scusi Presidente)

I don’t need very much

(non sento un gran bisogno)

our national Anthem

(dell’inno nazionale)

I’m a bit ashamed of

(di cui un po’ mi vergogno)

about soccer palyers

(In quanto ai calciatori)

I don’t want to judge

(non voglio giudicare)

ours don’t even know it

(i nostri non lo sanno)

or they have more modesty

(o hanno più pudore)

I don’t feel italian
but for better or for worse I am

(Io non mi sento italiano
ma per fortuna o purtroppo lo sono)

I’m sorry, mr President

(Mi scusi Presidente)

if I dare say
thai I don’t feel any membership

(se arrivo all’impudenza
di dire che non sento
alcuna appartenenza)

And except for Garibaldi

(E tranne Garibaldi)

and other glorious heroes

(e altri eroi gloriosi)

I can’t see any other reasons

(non vedo alcun motivo)

to be proud

(per essere orgogliosi)

I’m sorry, mr President

(Mi scusi Presidente)

but I’m thinking about the
black-shirt fanatism

(ma ho in mente il fanatismo
delle camicie nere)

at the time of fascism

(al tempo del fascismo)

From where in a beautiful day was born

(Da cui un bel giorno nacque)

this democracy

(questa democrazia)

that needs fantasy
to receive praises

(che a farle i complimenti
ci vuole fantasia)

This beautiful Country

(Questo bel Paese)

Full of poetry

(pieno di poesia)

Has got so many claims

(ha tante pretese)

but is the suburbs
of our Occidental word

(ma nel nostro mondo occidentale
è la periferia)

I’m sorry, mr President

(Mi scusi Presidente)

but this State

(ma questo nostro Stato)

that you represent

(che voi rappresentate)

seems to me a bit smashed up

(mi sembra un po’ sfasciato)

It’s even too much clear

(E’ anche troppo chiaro)

in the eyes of the people

(agli occhi della gente)

that everything is calculated

(che tutto è calcolato)

that nothing works

(e non funziona niente)

Maybe it’s true that italians

(Sarà che gli italiani)

from a long tradition

(per lunga tradizione)

are too much fond of
any kind of debate

(son troppo appassionati
di ogni discussione)

Even in Parliament

(Persino in parlamento)

there’s a glowing atmosphere

(c’è un’aria incandescente)

everyone slaughter about everything

(si scannano su tutto)

but then nothing changes

(e poi non cambia niente)

i’m sorry, mr President

(Mi scusi Presidente)

You should agree

(dovete convenire)

that we must admit our limits

(che i limiti che abbiamo
ce li dobbiamo dire)

But apart defeatism

(Ma a parte il disfattismo)

we are what we are

(noi siamo quel che siamo)

and we have a past too

(e abbiamo anche un passato)

that’s not to forget

(che non dimentichiamo)

I’ sorry, mr President,

(Mi scusi Presidente)

but maybe we Italians

(ma forse noi italiani)

are for other only
spaghetti and mandolins

(per gli altri siamo solo
spaghetti e mandolini)

So here I get angry

(Allora qui mi incazzo)

I’m proud and I boast

(son fiero e me ne vanto)

I slam in their faces

(gli sbatto sulla faccia)

what Renaissance is

(cos’è il Rinascimento)

I don’t feel italian

(Io non mi sento italiano)

but for better or for worse I am

(ma per fortuna o purtroppo lo sono)

This beautiful country

(Questo bel Paese)

maybe is not much wise

(forse è poco saggio)

has got confused ideas

(ha le idee confuse)

but if I were born in other places

(ma se fossi nato in altri luoghi)

it could have been worse

(poteva andarmi peggio)

i’m sorry, mr President

(Mi scusi Presidente)

by now I’ve said so much

(ormai ne ho dette tante)

there’s another observation

(c’è un’altra osservazione)

thai I think is important

(che credo sia importante)

compared to foreing

(Rispetto agli stranieri)

we consider us less

(noi ci crediamo meno)

but maybe we understood

(ma forse abbiam capito)

that the world is a puppet theater

(che il mondo è un teatrino)

I’m sorry, mr President

(Mi scusi Presidente)

I know that neither you rejoice

(lo so che non gioite)

if the outcry “Italia, Italia”

(se il grido “Italia, Italia”)

is heard only at football matchs

(c’è solo alle partite)

but a bit not to die

(Ma un po’ per non morire)

or maybe a bit to bandinage

(o forse un po’ per celia)

we made Europe

(abbiam fatto l’Europa)

let’s make Italy too

(facciamo anche l’Italia)

I don’t feel Italian
but for better or for worse
for better or for worse
for better…

fortunately I am.

It took me two days to translate this song, but I’m pretty satisfied with the result. Giorgio Gaber was one of the italian singers I like most, especially for its monologues. He was an Actor before a singer, and a singer before a comedian. Nay: he’s never been a comedian.
It’s a pity he’s dead. As every V.I.P. I would be glad to send a mail to (?), he died when I was a child.
What a bad luck.

Arguing

Last day my boyfriend and I were sitting on a bench, waiting for the bus that would bring him home (he still lives in the city where we where born. Damned city). Then a couple of tourists had a rest near us, until the woman asked us if there were any bus line. I told her that there were on the parallel roads, but to go straight on to be sure, since there were the Colosseum and lots of buses stop there. The woman thanked me and, as he heard the word “Colosseum”, her husband leaned forward the direction I pointed at.
It true!” he said. He was so exited, even if he seemed so old…
I’m glad everytime someone apreciates this city, and this country too.

When the tourists went away, ‘Frisco and I continued to fill a questionnaire on-line on our government web-site. While we were wondering about pros and cons between a semi-presidential Republic or a parliamentary Republic, another woman sat close to us. After a few minutes, hearing our reasons and doubts, she smiled when she heard one of the questions we were asked to answer: “I know it! The term of office of the President of the Republic is seven years”.
“Right”, we smiled back.
“Is the only thing I knew among all the others question I’ve heard from you in these minutes”, she chuckled.
Oh. Of course.
We walked away after waving off the woman, but we where a bit baffled (baffled?): why keep we arguing about the reasons for such a debacle in Italy, when the average Italian guy doesn’t even know the basics of how politic works?

I keep saying that this blog was not meant to be such serious, but everytime I find difficult to write about anything else. I find it useless.
But I’m hear to learn English, honey, not to keep on arguing…

brainwaves

The first thing I did as I’ve heard about the last Berlusconi’s and its followers’ brainwave was checking my Twitter profile to see what foreing headlines said. The BBC one was the most snappy: it said something about “the shaky situation of Italian Parlament”.

Man, I am so fed-up of shaking. I’d like to have a steadier life, if any steady life is possible. Though everyone talk about these last twenty years as the “unhappiest years of ever for Italy” and this means that who is twenty, like (more or less) me, has never lived in a decent country. What a mess.

When I came back home, this evening, my step-mother was in a hurry to see one of her collegues, bacause of the new cuts down at Rome Libaries, where they work. Municipality decided to save money and here this means cutting everywhere you can… even culture. Politicians keep on wasting public money, but then libraries have to close two hours earlier (where we students are supposed to study?) and shorter work shifts – and lower salaries, too.
At the same time, taxes are increasing day by day, as government crisis goes forward.
I hope this last paragraph is not too much confused: a friend of mine read this blog and she said that’s pretty good, but phrasing is still too much close to the italians’ structure.

This blog is not meant to discuss political topics, but, you know… let’s call it “déformation professionnelle”.