Il barbone - Fabio Concato

Guarda quel barbone personaggio d’altri tempi chissa' dove andra'

Porta sulle spalle un grosso sacco d’immondizia pieno a meta'

Addosso ha due cappotti, nove maglie, sembra quasi un palombaro;

Si china per raccogliere qualcosa: spera sia danaro

Poi dal sacco esce legno, latta, un po' di stracci ed un barattolo

Commercia in questi articoli che io trovo ridicoli

Ci campa sopra, forse lui e' un filosofo e male non ne fa

Ecco si avvicina, certo vuole qualche soldo… beh, gliene do';

Dopotutto e' un poveraccio e forse coi miei soldi puo' mangiare

Mi domando perche' mai non cerchera' lavoro

In qualche posto potrebbe risparmiare

E avere un conto al Banco Popolare

Poi mi guarda dritto in faccia

Sembra aver capito quel che penso

Mi fa un sorriso strano

Mi indica orgoglioso gli stracci che ha raccolto

E i soldi che gli han dato con pieta', come me

Ora si allontana ed io sto meglio

Quasi avessi visto un incidente

Mi sto congratulando con me stesso e penso:

«Che bello non essere un pezzente»

Ma ecco che il barbone fa ritorno

Mi fa una gran risata in faccia

Mi fa sentire stupido e meschino;

Mi fa sentire quel che sono

Ed io capisco che lui e' felice come me della vita che fa

Look at that homeless character from the past who knows where he will go

He carries a large half-full garbage bag on his shoulders

He is wearing two coats, nine shirts, he almost looks like a diver;

He bends down to collect something: he hopes it's money

Then from the sack comes out wood, tin, some rags and a jar

He trades in these items which I find ridiculous

He lives on it, maybe he is a philosopher and he doesn't hurt

Here he is approaching, of course he wants some money ... well, I'll give him some;

After all, he's a poor fellow and maybe with my money he can eat

I wonder why he won't be looking for work

Somewhere he could save

And have an account at Banco Popolare

Then he looks me straight in the face

He seems to have understood what I think

He gives me a weird smile

He proudly points to the rags he has collected

And the money they gave him with pity, like me

Now he walks away and I'm better

Almost I saw an accident

I am congratulating myself and thinking:

"How nice not to be a beggar"

But here comes the homeless man

He gives me a big laugh in my face

He makes me feel stupid and mean;

He makes me feel what I am

And I understand that he is as happy as I am with the life he leads