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| Southern Europe: Italy | |
|---|---|
| Monti di Mola Mountains of Mola | |
Original text | |
In li Monti di Mola, la manzana, un'aina musteddina era pascendi. In li Monti di Mola, la manzana, un cioano vantarricciu e moru era sfraschendi. E l'occhj s'intuppesini cilchendi ea ea ea ea. E l'ea sguttesi da li muccichili cù li bae ae ae. E l'occhj la burricca aìa di lu mari. E a iddu da li tivi escìa lu Maestrali. E idda si tunchjà abbeddulata ‹ea ea ea ea›. Iddu li rispundia linghitontu «ae ae ae ae». «Oh bedda mea, l'aina luna. La bedda mea, capitali di lana. Oh bedda mea, janca fultuna.» ‹Oh beddu meu, l'occhj mi brusgi. Lu beddu meu, carrasciali di basgi. Oh beddu meu, lu core mi cusgi.› Ammuri mannu, di prima olta. L'aba si suggi tuttu lu meli di chista multa. Ammuri steddu, di tutti l'ori. Di petralana lu battaddolu di chistu cori. Ma nudda si po fa, nudda, in Gaddura, che no lu ènini a sapi int'un'ura. E 'nfattu una vecchja infrascunata fea ea ea ea, piagnendi e figghjulendi si dicia cù li bae ae ae: "Biata idda, uai che bedd'omu. Biata idda, cioanu e moru. Biata idda, sola mi moru. Biata idda, jà ma l'ammentu. Biata idda, iù d'una olta. Biata idda, ezzaia tolta." Ammuri mannu, di prima olta. L'aba si suggi tuttu lu meli di chista multa. Ammuri steddu, di tutti l'ori. Di petralana lu battaddolu di chistu cori. E lu paesi intreu s'agghindesi pa' lu coju. Lu parracu mattessi intresi in lu soju. Ma a cujuassi no riscisini l'aina e l'omu, che da li documenti escisini fratili in primu. E idda si tunchjà abbeddulata ‹ea ea ea ea›. Iddu li rispundia linghitontu «ae ae ae ae». | |
English Translation | |
In the mountains of Mola, at dawn, a greyish-coated donkey was grazing. In the mountains of Mola, at dawn, a young boy, handsome and dark-haired, was cutting branches. And their eyes met while they were looking for water. And the water dripped from their faces, together with drool. And the donkey had sea-colored eyes. And the mistral came out of the boy's nostrils. And she moaned contentedly ‹heehaw heehaw heehaw heehaw›. He answered mispronouncing «hawhee hawhee hawhee hawhee». «Oh my beauty, moon donkey. My beauty, woolen pillow. Oh my beauty, white good fortune.» ‹Oh my beauty, you burn my eyes. My beauty, carnival of kisses. Oh my beauty, you sew my heart.› Great love, first-time love. The bee is sucking all the honey from this myrtle. Child love, every-hour love. Mossy is the clapper of this heart. But nothing can be done, nothing, in Gallura, that they don't come to know within an hour. Indeed, an ugly old woman hiding in the bushes, crying and looking, was saying to herself, drooling: "Lucky her, oh goodness what a handsome man. Lucky her, young and dark-haired. Lucky her, I'll die alone. Lucky her, I remember well. Lucky her, more than once. Lucky her, wretched old age." Great love, first-time love. The bee is sucking all the honey from this myrtle. Child love, every-hour love. Mossy is the clapper of this heart. And the whole village primped for the wedding. The priest himself wore his robe. But the donkey and the man couldn't get married, for the documents revealed they were first cousins. And she moaned contentedly ‹heehaw heehaw heehaw heehaw›. He answered mispronouncing «hawhee hawhee hawhee hawhee». Credits Song: Sardo-Corsican folk song Artist: Fabrizio De André Text & translation: lyricstranslate.com Music video: Courtesy of Fabrizio Esse | |
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