Notte Di San Severo - Modena City Ramblers, Casa Del Vento

L’estate del '44

Fu la pi?

calda di tutto il secolo

Perch?

vent’anni di fame e miseria

Per le visioni in camicia nera

Che ci portarono in mezzo a una guerra

A cui ribellarsi era cosa seria

E la montagna fu madre

Dei combattenti bambini.

Silvestro era un uomo grande

Che conosceva espedienti a memoria

Come un albero ed il suo nome

Non si piegava alle intemperie

E cos?

alle dittature

E alla propaganda esaltata

Che assicurava grandezza

Dove grandezza non c’era.

Ma i tedeschi che sparavano

E gridando distruggevano

E le donne che imploravano

I bambini che piangevano

E le case che bruciavano

Ed i fuochi divampavano

E le donne che imploravano

I bambini che piangevano.

Noi, saremo soli

A portare la croce e la storia

Noi, saremo soli

Contro uomini senza memoria.

Quella notte a San Severo

Si aspettava una rappresaglia

Silvestro impaurito

Non stette a pensare

Con sua moglie e i suoi otto figli

Lasci?

il paese e la casa

Per passare la notte

Nella boscaglia.

La notte pass?

in fretta

Tra il freddo e qualche favola

Ma sembr?

la pi?

bella di tutte

Col suo cielo d’estate

Non si sent?

alcun rumore

Dal paese lasciato

Silvestro decise che sarebbe tornato.

Ma i tedeschi li aspettavano

Ed i padri catturarono

E le donne che imploravano

I bambini che piangevano

E nel bosco li portarono

E poi dopo li bendarono

E da bestie fucilarono

Venti padri che morivano.

Noi, saremo soli

A portare la croce e la storia

Noi, saremo soli

Contro uomini senza memoria…

(Grazie a Teo, Morner e alex '89 per questo testo)

The summer of '44

It was the most?

hot throughout the century

Why?

twenty years of hunger and misery

For visions in black shirts

Which brought us into the midst of a war

To rebel against was a serious matter

And the mountain was a mother

Child fighters.

Sylvester was a great man

That he knew tricks by heart

Like a tree and its name

He did not bend to the elements

And so what?

to dictatorships

And to the exalted propaganda

Which ensured greatness

Where there was no greatness.

But the Germans who fired

And shouting they destroyed

And the women who begged

The children who were crying

And the houses that burned

And the fires blazed

And the women who begged

The children who were crying.

We, we will be alone

To carry the cross and history

We, we will be alone

Against men without memory.

That night in San Severo

He expected retaliation

Afraid Sylvester

He didn't stay to think

With his wife and eight children

Are you leaving?

the country and the house

To spend the night

In the bush.

Did the night pass?

quickly

Between the cold and some fairy tales

But it seemed?

the "P?

beautiful of all

With its summer sky

Didn't you hear?

no noise

From the country left

Sylvester decided that he would return.

But the Germans were waiting for them

And the fathers captured

And the women who begged

The children who were crying

And they took them into the woods

And then afterwards they blindfolded them

And from beasts they shot

Twenty fathers who died.

We, we will be alone

To carry the cross and history

We, we will be alone

Against men without memory ...

(Thanks to Teo, Morner and alex '89 for this text)