Lyrics and translation Enzo Avitabile - Don Salvato'

Don Salvato'

"Don Salvato', a nce guardà da coppa
Sicuramente risultammo ridicoli
Cu tutti chisti veli 'nnanz all'uócchie
Nuie figli 'e chesta terra, 'e chesta vita
Nuie ca parlammo troppo spisso
Pure senza essere interrogati
Nuie, ca mo è nu guaio mo è na disgrazia
Pare ca nce simmo abbituati
Don Salvato' ll'àrberi chiàgnene
'E frutti se so' 'nfracetati
Veleno, fummo e cielo grigio
Quanno 'a mana vosta nunn 'è arrivata
E po' 'a paura, a' carna annùra
'Mmiezo 'e deserti d"a miseria
Carogne, puorce, sango crudo
'E mmane sporche, 'a famma e 'a sete
Don Salvat' a che ce serve
Tutta chesta educazione
Si po' ogni scarpa se fa vecchia
E si nun more è nu scarpone
E si vaie c"o core nisciuno t'aiuta
Riesti sulo schiavo d"o pudore
Ca te fa fesso e cuntento
E po' na spina dint"o core
Don Salvato', Don Salvato'
Don Salvato' che nce ne facimmo
D"o credere, d"a speranza
E dell'opere bbone
Se po' 'o destino 'o decidite vuie
E nuie nn' avimm màje ragione
E popoli arabi, popoli balcaniche
Tiempe moderni o tiempe antichi
Don Salvatò nu poco 'e pacienza
Si nuie ancora niente ammo capito.
Don Salvato' sotto 'a tavola vosta
Na tozzola 'e pane, quanno cade
Nu surzo 'e vino d"o figlio vuósto
Sango e chiuóve 'mmiezo 'e mmane
E si vaie c"o core nisciuno t'aiuta
Riesti sulo schiavo d"o pudore
Ca te fa fesso e cuntento
E po' na spina dint"o core
Don Salvato', Don Salvato'".
Ave Verum Corpus natum de Maria Virgine
Vere passum, immolatum in cruce pro homine
Cujus latus perforatum unda fluxit et sanguine
Esto nobis praegustatum in mortis examine.

Don Salvatore

"Don Salvatore, when you look down from above,
We must seem ridiculous,
With all these veils before our eyes,
We sons of this land, of this life,
We who speak too often,
Even when we are not asked.
We, to whom a problem and a misfortune are now one and the same,
It seems we are used to it.
Don Salvatore, the trees weep,
Their fruits have withered.
Poison, smoke, and gray skies,
When your hand did not reach us,
And then fear, the flesh in the abyss,
Amidst the deserts of poverty,
Scavengers, pigs, raw blood,
Dirty hands, hunger, and thirst,
Don Salvatore, what use is
All this education
If every shoe grows old,
And if it does not die, it becomes a boot?
And if you go with your heart, no one will help you,
You only become a slave to modesty,
Which makes you happy and foolish,
And then a thorn in your heart.
Don Salvatore, Don Salvatore,
Don Salvatore, what are we to make
Of faith, of hope,
And of good works?
Can you decide our destiny?
And we never have any reason.
And Arab peoples, Balkan peoples,
Modern times or ancient times,
Don Salvatore, a little patience,
If we still haven't understood anything.
Don Salvatore, under your table,
A crust of bread falls when,
A sip of wine from your son,
Blood and rain in my hands,
And if you go with your heart, no one will help you,
You only become a slave to modesty,
Which makes you happy and foolish,
And then a thorn in your heart.
Don Salvatore, Don Salvatore".
Ave Verum Corpus natum de Maria Virgine
Vere passum, immolatum in cruce pro homine
Cujus latus perforatum unda fluxit et sanguine
Esto nobis praegustatum in mortis examine.