Paroles et traduction Fabrizio De André - Don Raffaè (Live Tour 'In Teatro')

Don Raffaè (Live Tour 'In Teatro')

Io mi chiamo Pasquale Cafiero
E son brigadiero del carcere oine′
Io mi chiamo Cafiero Pasquale
Sto a Poggioreale dal '53
E al centesimo catenaccio
Alla sera mi sento uno straccio
Per fortuna che al braccio speciale
C′e' un uomo geniale che parla co'mme.
Tutto il giorno con quattro infamoni
Briganti, papponi, cornuti e lacche′
Tutte ll′ore co' ′sta fetenzia
Che sputa minaccia e s"a piglia co' mme
Ma alla fine m′assetto papale
Mi sbottono e mi leggo 'o ggiurnale
Mi consiglio con don Raffae′
Mi spiega che penso e bevimm"o ccafe'.
Ah, che bellu ccafe'
Sulo ′n carcere ′o sanno fa'
Co′ 'a recetta ch′a Cicirinella
Compagno di cella ci ha dato mamma'.
Prima pagina venti notizie
Ventuno ingiustizie e lo Stato che fa
Si costerna, s′indigna, s'impegna
Poi getta la spugna con gran dignita'.
Mi scervello. mi asciugo la fronte
Per fortuna c′e′ chi mi risponde
A quell'uomo sceltissimo e immenso
Io chiedo consenso, a don Raffae′.
Un galantuomo che tiene sei figli
Ha chiesto una casa e ci danno consigli
L' assessore che Dio lo perdoni
′Ndentro 'a roulotte ci alleva i visoni.
Voi vi basta una mossa, una voce
C′a 'stu Cristo ci leva 'na croce.
Con rispetto, s′e′ fatto le tre
Vulite 'a spremuta o vulite ′o caffe'?
Ah, che bellu ccafe′
Sulo 'n carcere ′o sanno fa'
Co' ′a recetta ch′a Cicirinella
Compagno di cella ci ha dato mamma'
Ah, che bellu ccafe′

Sulo 'n carcere ′o sanno fa'
Co′ 'a recetta di Cicirinella
Compagno di cella precisa a mamma'
′Cca ci sta l′inflazione, la svalutazione
E la borsa ce l'ha chi c′e' l′ha
Io non tengo compendio che chillo stipendio
E' un ambo se sogno a papa′
Aggiungete mia figlia Innocenza
Vuo' 'o marito, nun tiene pazienza
Non vi chiedo la grazia pe′mme
Vi faccio la barba o la fate da se′?
Voi tenete un cappotto cammello
Che al maxi-processo eravate 'o cchiu bello,
Un vestito gessato marrone
Cosi′ ci è sembrato alla televisione
Pe 'ste nozze vi prego Eccellenza
Mi prestasse pe′ ffare presenza
Io gia' tengo le scarpe e ′o gile'
Gradite 'o Campari o vulite ′o ccafe′?
Ah, che bellu ccafe'
Sulo ′n carcere 'o sanno fa′
Co' ′a recetta ch'a Cicirinella
Compagno di cella ci ha dato mamma'.
Ah, che bellu ccafe′
Sulo ′n carcere 'o sanno fa′
Co' ′a ricetta di Cicirinella
Compagno di cella preciso a mamma'.
Qui non c′e' piu' decoro, le carceri d′oro
Ma chi ll′ha mai viste, chissa'
Cheste so′ fatiscenti pe' cchisto ′e fetienti
Si tengono l'immunita′
Don Raffae' voi politicamente
Io vi giuro sarebbe 'nu santo
Ma a′cca dinto voi state a paga′
E fora chist'atre se stanno a spassa′.
A proposito, tengo nu frate
Che da quindici anni sta disoccupato
Chillo ha fatto cinquanta concorsi
Novanta domande e duecento ricorsi
Voi che date conforto e lavoro,
Eminenza, vi bacio e v'imploro
Chillo dorme cu mamma e cu mme
Che crema d′Arabia ch'e′ cchistu ccafe'.

Don Raffaè (Live Tour 'In Teatro')

My name is Pasquale Cafiero,
And I'm the brigadier of this prison, you see,
My name is Cafiero Pasquale,
Been at Poggioreale since '53.
With the hundredth lock turned,
By evening I feel like a rag, worn and burned.
Luckily, in the special wing,
There's a genius, a man who talks with me, you see.
All day with four scoundrels I spend,
Crooks, pimps, cuckolds, and lackeys without end,
Every hour with this stench I bear,
Spitting threats and picking fights with me, I swear.
But in the end, I tidy myself up,
Unbutton my uniform and read the paper, sup.
I seek counsel from Don Raffaè,
He explains my thoughts, and we sip our coffee, you see.
Ah, what beautiful coffee,
Only in prison do they know how to make it, truly.
With the recipe that Cicirinella,
My cellmate, his mama gave to us, freely.
The front page holds twenty stories,
Twenty-one injustices, and what does the State decree?
It's appalled, indignant, it takes a stand,
Then throws in the towel with great dignity, you understand.
I rack my brain, wipe my brow,
Thankfully, there's someone who answers me now,
To that most chosen and immense man,
I ask for consent, from Don Raffaè, my plan.
A gentleman with six children, you see,
Asked for a house, and they give him advice, truly.
The councilman, may God forgive his soul,
Raises minks inside his trailer, taking his toll.
You just need one move, one word,
To lift this cross from this poor man, unheard.
With respect, you've served three years,
Would you like some juice or coffee, my dear?
Ah, what beautiful coffee,
Only in prison do they know how to make it, truly.
With the recipe that Cicirinella,
My cellmate, his mama gave to us, freely.
Ah, what beautiful coffee,

Only in prison do they know how to make it, truly.
With the recipe from Cicirinella,
My cellmate, his mama gave it precisely.
Here we have inflation, devaluation, you see,
And the stock market belongs to those who already have plenty.
I have no income except that measly salary,
It's a double if I dream of the Pope, rarely.
Add to that my daughter Innocenza,
She wants a husband, she has no patience, you see.
I don't ask for favors for myself,
Will you shave yourself or shall I help?
You have a camel coat so fine,
At the maxi-trial, you were the most handsome, divine,
A pinstripe suit of brown,
That's how you appeared on television, renowned.
For this wedding, I beg Your Excellency,
Would you lend it to me to make an appearance, please?
I already have the shoes and the vest,
Would you like some Campari or coffee, as my guest?
Ah, what beautiful coffee,
Only in prison do they know how to make it, truly.
With the recipe that Cicirinella,
My cellmate, his mama gave to us, freely.
Ah, what beautiful coffee,
Only in prison do they know how to make it, truly.
With the recipe from Cicirinella,
My cellmate, his mama gave it precisely.
Here there's no more decorum, golden prisons, they say,
But who has ever seen them, anyway?
These are crumbling, that's why they stink so,
They hold onto their immunity, you know.
Don Raffaè, politically, I swear,
You would be a saint, beyond compare.
But in here you're paying the price,
And outside, those others are having a good time, nice.
Speaking of which, I have a brother,
Who's been unemployed for fifteen years, another.
He's taken fifty exams, it's true,
Ninety applications, and two hundred appeals, too.
You who give comfort and work,
Your Eminence, I kiss you and implore, don't shirk.
He sleeps with mama and me,
What Arabian cream is this coffee, you see?