Aveva un bavero (Erase una vez) - Quartetto Cetra

Nelle sere fredde e scure

Presso il fuoco del camino

Quante storie, quante fiabe

Raccontava il mio nonnino

La più bella ch’io ricordo

È la storia di un amore

Di un amore appassionato

Che felice non finì

Ed il cuore di un poeta

A tal punto intenerì

Che la storia di quei tempi

Mise in musica così:

Aveva un bavero color zafferano

E la marsina color ciclamino

Veniva a piedi da Lodi a Milano

Per incontrare la bella Gigogin

Passeggiando per la via

Le cantava: «Mio dolce amor

Gigogin, speranza mia

Coi tuoi baci mi rubi il cuor»

E la storia continua: lui fu mandato soldatino in Piemonte, ed ogni mattina le

inviava un fiore sull’acqua di una roggia che passava per Milano.

Finché un giorno…

Lui, saputo che il ritorno

Finalmente era vicino

Sopra l’acqua un fior d’arancio

Deponeva un bel mattino

Lei, vedendo e indovinando

La ragione di quel fiore

Per raccoglierlo si spinse

Tanto tanto che cascò

Sopra l’acqua, con quel fiore

Verso il mare se ne andò

E anche lui, per il dolore

Dal Piemonte non tornò

Aveva un bavero color zafferano

E la marsina color ciclamino

Veniva a piedi da Lodi a Milano

Per incontrare la bella Gigogin

Lei lo attese nella via

Fra le stelle stringendo un fior

E in un sogno di poesia

Si trovarono uniti ancor

Stretta la foglia, larga la via;

dite la vostra, ché noi abbiamo detto…

un bavero color zafferano

La storia di un amor

On cold, dark evenings

At the fire in the fireplace

How many stories, how many fairy tales

My grandfather used to say

The most beautiful I remember

It is the story of a love

Of a passionate love

How happy did not end

And the heart of a poet

At this point he softened

What the story of those times

He put it to music like this:

She had a saffron collar

And the cyclamen-colored tailcoat

She came on foot from Lodi to Milan

To meet the beautiful Gigogin

Strolling down the street

She sang to her: «My sweet love

Gigogin, my hope

With your kisses you steal my heart "

And the story continues: he was sent as a soldier to Piedmont, and every morning there

he sent a flower on the water of a canal that passed through Milan.

Until one day ...

Him, known that the return

He was finally close

Above the water an orange blossom

She laid down one fine morning

You, seeing and guessing

The reason for that flower

To pick it up she pushed

So much so that she fell

Above the water, with that flower

Towards the sea she went away

And he too, for the pain

He did not return from Piedmont

He had a saffron collar

And the cyclamen-colored tailcoat

He came on foot from Lodi to Milan

To meet the beautiful Gigogin

She waited for him in the street

Among the stars clutching a flower

And in a dream of poetry

They found themselves united again

Narrow the leaf, wide the way;

have your say, because we said ...

a saffron-colored collar

The story of a love