Paroles et traduction Pierangelo Bertoli - Filastrocca a Motore

Filastrocca a Motore

Poi l'auto fu spinta per l'ultimo tratto di strada da fare
Rimase l? ferma e quelli che sanno la vanno a guardare.
Un tempo lontano aveva portato schiavisti e gerarchi,
Poi nella vecchiaia restava a giocare coi bimbi nei parchi.
Nessuno la odiava ma in fondo le stavano tutti alla larga,
Poi fu trasformata e vecchia rimase soltanto la targa.

La usarono ancora, la misero a vendere stoffe ai mercati,
Sal? sopra i monti and? dentro ai fiumi, viaggi? in mezzo ai prati.
Poi perse dei pezzi
Qualcuno aggiust? quello che si poteva
Cambi? ancora mano e giunse in citt?
Che la neve cadeva.
Il nuovo padrone la andava a trovare e poi la puliva,
Oliava il motore,
A volte l'avviava,
Ma non ci saliva.

A volte? importante sapere che conti, che vali qualcosa
Ma essere niente
? Come un marito a cui manca la sposa.
E l'auto soffriva, ma tutti pensavano fosse contenta
Del resto capire? un fatto difficile e a volte spaventa.
Cos? chi guardava pensava che? comodo stare in pensione,
Godere il riposo e farsi servire da tante persone.

Il tempo passava, scomparve l'inverno, torn? primavera
E poi un mattino la misero in moto andando alla fiera:
E in mezzo alle altre,
Cos? tra i rottami del tempo gi? usato,
Fu preda all'angoscia e desider? d'esser morta in passato.
A sera tornando un camion sband? la invest? sul davanti
Strapp? quasi tutto,
Fu il vecchio chassis che salv? gli occupanti.

E mentre moriva
Schiacciata dal peso di quella motrice
Sul nastro d'asfalto
Allora scopr?
D'esser quasi felice.

Motoring Nursery Rhyme

Then the car was pushed for the final stretch of road to be made
It remained there still and those who know go to look at it.
A long time ago it had carried slavers and hierarchs,
Then in its old age, it would play with children in the park.
No one hated it but deep down they all kept their distance,
Then it was transformed and only the number plate remained old.

They used it again, they put it to sell fabrics in the markets,
It climbed over mountains and went into rivers, travelled through meadows.
Then it lost some parts
Someone fixed what they could,
It changed hands again and arrived in the city
When the snow was falling.
The new owner would go and visit it and then clean it,
Oil the engine,
Sometimes he would start it up,
But he wouldn't get in.

Sometimes it is important to know that you count, that you are worth something,
But being nothing
Is like a husband who misses his wife.
And the car suffered, but everyone thought it was happy,
After all, understanding is a difficult thing and sometimes it frightens.
So those who looked thought that it was comfortable being retired,
Enjoying the rest and being served by so many people.

Time passed, winter disappeared, spring returned
And then one morning they started it up to go to the fair:
And among the others,
So among the wreckage of time already used,
It was prey to anxiety and wished it had died in the past.
In the evening, returning, a truck skidded and hit it from the front,
It tore off almost everything,
It was the old chassis that saved the occupants.

And as it died
Crushed by the weight of that engine,
On the asphalt,
Then it discovered
To be almost happy.