'O Cunto 'E Masaniello - 2001 Digital Remaster - Nuova Compagnia di Canto Popolare traduction en anglais

'O Cunto 'E Masaniello - 2001 Digital Remaster

A lu tiempo de la malora
Masaniello è nu piscatore,
Piscatore nun le rincresce
Masaniello se magna ′nu pesce.
Vene subbeto 'o Vicerrè
Chistu pesce spett′a mme
Tutt'a mme e niente a tte
Po' si a tassa vuo′ pava′,
Chistu pesce t"o può 'mpigna′...
A lu tiempo de la malora
Masaniello è nu piscatore.
A lu tiempo de trivule 'mpizze
Masaniello se veste ′a scugnizzo,
Nu scugnizzo stracciato e fetente,
Masaniello se magna 'e semmente.
Vene subbeto ′o Vicerrè
'Sta semmenta spett'a mme
Tutt′a mme e niente a tte
Cu ′a semmenta tu te 'ngrasse,
E t"a metto n′ata tassa...
A lu tiempo de trivule 'mpizze
Masaniello se veste ′a scugnizzo...
A lu tiempo de li turmiente
Masaniello se veste 'a fuiente.
Senza rezza e senza cchiù varca,
Fa′ 'nu vuto a' Maronna ′e ll′Arco.
Vene 'o prevete e ′o Vicerrè
'Sta Maronna spett′a mme
Tutt'a mme e niente a tte,
Chesta è a tassa p"o Pataterno,
O vai subbet′all'inferno.
A lu tiempo de li turmiente
Masaniello se veste a fuiente.
A lu tiempo d"a disperazione
Masaniello se veste 'a lione
Nu lione cu ll′ogne e cu ′e riente,
Tene 'a famma e tutt"e pezziente.
Vicerrè mò fete ′o ccisto
Songo 'o peggio cammurrista,
Io me songo fatto ′nzisto,
E cu 'a ′nziria e Masaniello
Faie marenna a sarachiello...
A lu tiempo d"a disperazione
Masaniello se veste 'a lione.
A lu tiempo de primmavera
Masaniello se veste 'a bannera.
′Na bannera ca ′o popolo bascio
Sona arreto tammorra e grancascia.
Attenzione... battaglione
S'è sparato nu cannone,
è asciuto pazzo lu patrone,
Ogge ′nce ha avasciato 'o ppane
Ma nun saie fino a dimmane...
A lu tiempo de primmavera
Masaniello se veste ′a bannera.
A lu tiempo de trarimiento
Masaniello 'o vestono ′argiento,
Tutt'argiento 'e signure cumpite
Mò ce ′o coseno ′stu vestito.
Dice subbeto 'o Vicerrè
Simmo eguale io e te
Pazziammo cucù e settè,
Si rispunne a chist′invito,
T'aggia cosere n′atu vestito...
A lu tiempo de trarimiento
Masaniello 'o vestono ′argiento.
A lu tiempo de li 'ntrallazze
Masaniello è bestuto da pazzo.
Quanno tremma e 'o vestito se straccia,
Pure ′o popolo ′o sputa 'nfaccia
′Stu vestito fà appaura
Masaniello se spoglia annuro,
'A Maronna nun se ne cura
Po′ si 'a capa ′nterra ce lassa
Accussì pava ll'urdema tassa.
A lu tiempo de li 'ntrallaze
Masaniello è bestuto da pazzo.
A lu tiempo de ′sti gabelle
Masaniello è Pulicenella.
Si è rimasto cu ′a capa a rinto
Ll'ate ridono areto ′e quinte.
Pò s'aumenta ′o ppane e ll'uoglio
Saglie ′ncoppa n'atu 'mbruoglio
Tira ′o popolo ca ce cuoglie,
Nun ce appizza mai la pelle
Chi cummanna ′sti guarattelle.
A lu tiempo de 'sti gabelle
Masaniello è Pulicenella
A lu tiempo de chisti scunfuorte
Masaniello è bestuto da muorto.
Dint"a nicchia ′na capa cu ll'ossa
Nce ha lassato ′na coppola rossa.
Chesta coppola dà 'na voce,
Quanno ′a famme nun è doce,
Quann"o popolo resta 'ncroce,
Quanno pave 'stu tributo
Pure ′a tassa ′ncopp"o tavuto.
A lu tiempo de chisti scunfuorte
Masaniello è bestuto da muorto.
Masaniello s"o credono muorto...

'O Cunto 'E Masaniello - 2001 Digital Remaster

In times of hardship and despair,
Masaniello, a fisherman so rare,
Fishing life, he didn't mind,
Masaniello, a fish he'd find.
The Viceroy came without delay,
"This fish belongs to me, I say,
All for me, and none for you,
If you want to pay the tax that's due,
This fish you can pawn, it's true..."
In times of hardship and despair,
Masaniello, a fisherman so rare.
In times of turmoil and of strife,
Masaniello lived a street urchin's life,
A ragamuffin, ragged and unkempt,
Masaniello, on seeds he dreamt.
The Viceroy came without delay,
"These seeds belong to me, I say,
All for me, and none for you,
With these seeds, you'll grow quite fat,
And another tax, I'll add to that..."
In times of turmoil and of strife,
Masaniello lived a street urchin's life...
In times of torment and of pain,
Masaniello, like a fountain, did sustain.
Without a net, without a boat,
To the Madonna of the Arch, he did devote.
The priest and Viceroy, they drew near,
"This Madonna, she belongs to me, it's clear,
All for me, and none for you,
This is the tax for the Lord above,
Or to hell you'll go, without His love."
In times of torment and of pain,
Masaniello, like a fountain, did sustain.
In times of desperation's hold,
Masaniello, like a lion, brave and bold,
A lion with claws and teeth so white,
He held the hunger and the poor in sight.
Viceroy, now you smell the stink,
I'm the worst of all the thugs, I think,
I've become persistent, it is true,
And with the 'Ndrangheta and Masaniello too,
We'll make a mess of you..."
In times of desperation's hold,
Masaniello, like a lion, brave and bold.
In times of spring and blooming life,
Masaniello, like a banner in the strife,
A banner that the people kiss with pride,
Drums and tambourines sound far and wide.
Attention... battalion, stand your ground,
A cannon has been fired, with a mighty sound,
The master has gone mad, it's plain to see,
Today he lowered the price of bread, you and me,
But who knows what tomorrow will bring, we'll wait and see..."
In times of spring and blooming life,
Masaniello, like a banner in the strife.
In times of great betrayal and deceit,
Masaniello, in silver they did greet,
All silver, of the lords complete,
Now they sew for him this garment neat.
The Viceroy quickly said with glee,
"We are equals, you and me,
Let's play cuckoo and hide-and-seek, it's true,
If you answer this invitation new,
Another garment, I'll sew for you..."
In times of great betrayal and deceit,
Masaniello, in silver they did greet.
In times of tangled webs and lies,
Masaniello, as a madman, they disguise.
When he trembles and his clothes they tear,
Even the people spit in his face, without a care.
This garment brings a sense of fright,
Masaniello undresses in the night,
The Madonna does not care, it's true,
Then if his head he leaves in the ground below,
Thus he pays the final tax, you know.
In times of tangled webs and lies,
Masaniello, as a madman, they disguise.
In times of these harsh taxes and despair,
Masaniello is Pulcinella, beyond compare.
If he's left with a swollen head and pain,
Others laugh behind the scenes, it's insane.
Then the price of bread and oil does rise,
Another mess arises to the skies,
The people pull, for they are wise,
Their skin never catches fire, it's true,
Who commands these puppet shows, just who?
In times of these harsh taxes and despair,
Masaniello is Pulcinella, beyond compare.
In times of these misfortunes and despair,
Masaniello is dressed as the dead, with care.
In a niche, a skull with bones so white,
He left behind a red cap, shining bright.
This cap, it speaks with a voice so clear,
When hunger is not sweet, and filled with fear,
When the people are left on the cross, in pain,
When this tribute they are forced to sustain,
Even the tax on the coffin lid, it's plain.
In times of these misfortunes and despair,
Masaniello is dressed as the dead, with care.
Masaniello, they believe him dead...