Milano (Poveri Bimbi Di) - Francesco Guccini

Quando son nato io Pesavo sei chili

Avevo spalle da uomo

E mani grandi come badili.

Quando son nato io Eran davvero tempi cupi

E le mie strade erano piene

Di iene e di lupi

Quando son nato io La morte stringeva la vite e la Gente dei mondo

Ingoiava cordite.

Poveri bimbi di Milano

Col vestiti comprati all’Upim

Abituati ad un cielo a buchi

Che vedete sempre pi lontano.

Poveri bimbi di Milano

Cos fragili cos infelici

Che urlate rabbia senza radici

Con occhi tinti e con niente in Mano.

Poveri bimbi di Milano

Derubati anche d speranza

Che danzate la vostra danza

In quello zoo metropolitano.

Poveri bimbi di Milano

Con fazzoletti come giardini

Poveri indiani nella riserva

Povere giacche blu questurini.

Quando son nato io

C’era la fame nera

E la vita d’ognuno

Tirava il lotto ogni sera.

Quando son nato io Le citt erano cimiteri

E la primavera sbocciava

Sopra ai morti di ieri.

Quando son nato io alla fine

Ci tu gran festa

E l’uomo si svegli dal sonno

Apr gli occhi e rialz la testa.

Poveri bimbi di Milano

Dall’orizzonte sempre coperto

Povera sete di libert

Costretta a vivere nel deserto.

Poveri bimbi di Milano

Dalle musiche come un motore

Col pi terribile del silenzi

La solitudine del rumore.

Poveri bimbi di Milano

Figli di padri preoccupanti

Con un esistere da nano

E nella mente sogni giganti.

Poveri bimbi di Milano

Numerosi come minuti

Viaggiatori di mete fisse

Spettatori sempre seduti.

Quando son nato io Come capita a tutti

Il tempo uguale e incurante

Imponeva i suoi frutti.

Quando son nato io Nel rogo d S. Silvestro

Si bruciava il passato

E il peccato col resto.

Quando rinasceremo

Come il sogno d’un uomo

Bruceremo il futuro

In piazza del Duomo.

When I was born I weighed six kilos

I had a man's shoulders

And hands as big as shovels.

When I was born, it was really dark times

And my streets were full

Of hyenas and wolves

When I was born Death held the vine and the People of the world

He swallowed cordite.

Poor children of Milan

With clothes bought at the Upim

Get used to a sky with holes

Which you see farther and farther.

Poor children of Milan

So fragile so unhappy

Who scream rootless rage

With dyed eyes and with nothing in hand.

Poor children of Milan

Robbed also gives hope

Let you dance your dance

In that metropolitan zoo.

Poor children of Milan

With handkerchiefs like gardens

Poor Indians on the reservation

Poor blue policemen jackets.

When I was born

There was black hunger

And everyone's life

He pulled the lottery every night.

When I was born Cities were cemeteries

And spring was blossoming

Above the dead of yesterday.

When I was born in the end

There you great party

And the man awakens from sleep

He opened his eyes and raised his head.

Poor children of Milan

From the horizon always covered

Poor thirst for freedom

Forced to live in the desert.

Poor children of Milan

From music like an engine

With the most terrible of silence

The solitude of noise.

Poor children of Milan

Children of worrying fathers

With a dwarf existence

And in the mind giant dreams.

Poor children of Milan

As numerous as minutes

Fixed destination travelers

Spectators always seated.

When I was born As it happens to everyone

Time equal and careless

It imposed its fruits.

When I was born In the stake of S. Silvestro

The past was being burned

And sin with the rest.

When will we be reborn

Like a man's dream

We will burn the future

In the Piazza del Duomo.