Paroles et traduction Massimo Ranieri - Fravecatura (Live)

Fravecatura (Live)

All'acqua e a 'o sole fràveca
Cu na cucchiara 'mmano
Pe' ll' aria 'ncopp' a n'anneto
Fore a nu quinto piano

Nu pede miso fauzo
Nu movimento stuorto
E fa nu volo 'e l'angelo:
Primma c'arriva, è muorto

Nu strillo; e po' n'accorrere
Gente e fravecature
-Risciata ancora... È Ruoppolo!
Tene ddoie criature!

L'aizano e s' 'o portano
Cu na carretta a mano
Se move ancora ll' anneto
Fore d' 'o quinto piano

E passa stu sparpetuo
Cchiù d'uno corre appriesso;
E n'ato, 'ncopp'a n'anneto
Canta e fatica 'o stesso

'Nterra, na pala 'e cavece
Cummoglia a macchia 'e sango
E ' sghizze se scereano
Cu 'e scarpe sporche 'e fango

Quanno o spitale arrivano
'A folla è trattenuta
E chi sape 'a disgrazia
Racconta comm'è gghiuta

E attuorno, tutt' 'o popolo:
-Madonna! — Avite visto?
-D' 'o quinto piano — 'E Virgine!
-E comme, Giesucristo...?!

E po' accumpare pallido
Chillo c' ha accumpagnato:
E, primma ca ce 'o spiano
Fa segno ca è spirato

Cu 'o friddo dint'a ll'anema
'A folla s'alluntana
'E lume gia s'appicciano
'A via se fa stramano

E a' casa, po', 'e mannibbele
Muorte, poveri figlie
Mentre magnano, a tavola
Ce 'o diceno a 'e famiglie

'E mamme 'e figlie abbracciano
Nu sposo abbraccia 'a sposa...
E na mugliera trepida
Aspetta, e nn' arreposa

S'appenne 'a copp'a ll'asteco
Sente 'o rilorgio: 'e nnove!
Se dice nu rusario...
Aspetta e nun se move

L'acqua p' 'o troppo vòllere
S'è strutta int' 'a tiena
'O ffuoco è fatto cènnere
Se sente na campana

E 'e ppiccerelle chiagnano
Pecchè vonno magnà':
-Mamma, mettiamo 'a tavula!
-Si nun vene papà?

'A porta! Tuzzuleano:
-Foss'isso? — E va 'arapi'
-Chi site? — 'O capo d'opera
Ruoppolo abita qui?

-Gnorsì, quacche disgrazia?
Io veco tanta gente...
-Calmateve, vestiteve...
-Madonna! — E' cosa 'e niente

E sciuliato 'a l'anneto
D"o primmo piano. — Uh, Dio!
E sta o spitale? — È logico
-Uh, Pascalino mio!

'E ddoie criature sbarrano
Ll'uocchie senza capì
'A mamma, disperannose
Nu lamp a se visti'

'E cchiude 'a dinto; e scenneno
Pe' grade cu 'e cerine
-Donna Rache'! – Maritemo
Che ssà, sta è Pellerine

E' sciuliato 'a ll'anneto
-Si, d' 'o sicondo piano
E via facendo st'anneto
Ca saglie chiano chiano

-Diciteme, spiegateme
-Curaggio. — È muorto?! — È muorto!
D' 'o quinto piano. 'All'anneto
Nu pede miso stuorto

P' 'o schianto, senza chiagnere
S'abbatte e perde 'e senze
È Dio ca vo na pausa
A tutte 'e sofferenze

E quanno a' casa 'a portano
Trovano e ppìccerelle
'Nterra, addurmute
E luceno 'nfaccia ddoie lagremelle

Whitewashing (Live)

Whitewashing in the sun and water
With a spoon in hand
Up in the air on a scaffold
Outside a fifth floor

A misplaced foot
A wrong move
And he takes an angel's flight:
Before he lands, he's dead

A scream; and then a rush
People and whitewashers
-He's still breathing... It's Ruoppolo!
He has two children!

They lift him and carry him away
With a handcart
The scaffold still moves
Outside the fifth floor

And this stretcher passes
More than one runs after it;
And another, on a scaffold
Sings and works hard just the same

On the ground, a shovelful of dirt
Covers a stain of blood
And the onlookers scatter
With their shoes dirty with mud

When they arrive at the hospital
The crowd is held back
And those who know the tragedy
Tell how it happened

And all around, the people:
-Madonna! — Did you see?
-From the fifth floor — The Virgin!
-And how, Jesus Christ...?!

And then appears pale
The one who accompanied him:
And, before they question him
He signals that he has passed

With a chill in their souls
The crowd moves away
The lights are already lit
The street becomes deserted

And at home, then, the little ones
Poor children, dead
While they eat, at the table
They tell the families

Mothers hug their daughters
A husband embraces his wife...
And a wife trembles
She waits, and does not rest

She hangs from the balcony
She hears the clock: nine o'clock!
She says a rosary...
She waits and does not move

The water, from wanting too much
Has run out in the pot
The fire has turned to ashes
A bell is heard

And the little ones cry
Because they want to eat:
-Mommy, let's set the table!
-What if Daddy doesn't come?

The door! They knock:
-Could it be him? — Go open it
-Who are you? — The foreman
Does Ruoppolo live here?

-Yes, any misfortune?
I see so many people...
-Calm down, get dressed...
-Madonna! — It's nothing

He slipped from the scaffold
From the first floor. — Oh, God!
And is he at the hospital? — Of course
-Oh, my Pascalino!

The two children stare
Their eyes not understanding
The mother, desperate
Lights a lamp

She closes them inside; and they go down
By the stairs with candles
-Donna Rache'! – Our husband
Who knows, maybe it's Pellerine

He slipped from the scaffold
-Yes, from the second floor
And so on with this scaffold
That goes up slowly slowly

-Tell me, explain to me
-Courage. — Is he dead?! — He's dead!
From the fifth floor. On the scaffold
A misplaced foot

From the shock, without crying
She collapses and faints
It is God who wants a break
From all suffering

And when they bring her home
They find the little ones
Asleep on the floor
And two tears shine on their faces