Текст и перевод песни Modena City Ramblers - La Fola Dal Magalas

La Fola Dal Magalas

State attenti, questa è una vecchia storia
È la storia del Magalasso, una storia che gira tra Modena e Bologna
Che parla di una biscia nera, enorme, cattiva e anche un po′ molto incazzata
Che di inverno si nasconde e a marzo viene fuori
E quando lo fa sono cazzi per tutti
Nelle intenzioni della favola ognuno ci vede quello che vuole nel Magalasso
Comunque resta un biscione, 'na roba brutta
Vedete voi...
Quasta ché l′è na fola c'la pèrla ed la béssa
L'è nèda in campagna fra al verd e al gris
Ades a v′la caunt in mod c′as capessa
Par ferev paura e màtrev d'avis
Ste ateinti quand a vin sira a ander par la streda
C′a'n gh′è mai nisun in gir
E tot I megher, tot i gras
I g'an pòra dal Magalas
Al Magalas l′è na béssa c'l'è neda in′Panera
L′è longa se meter, quelch'd′un giva ot
D'inveren la s′luga in mez a la giera
Ma in Merz la vin fora e I ein cas par tot
Chi l'ha vesta in curtil, chi in d′l aldamera
Chi in canteina tra veine parsòt
Tot i zoven, tot i plèe
Ades i disen c'l'è turnèe
L′è negher com un cancher, l′è cativ e l'è arabii
Ed not a′t selta in testa, a't magna i oc, a′t magna i di
L'è nascost in sema al graner, l′è là c'al t'aspeta in mez a i sas
La ginta l′an dorem piò a seinter la fola dal Magalas
La storia continua sempre per farvi paura e mettervi in guardia
Gli abitanti del villaggi l′abbandonano per terrore del biscione
La storia arriva a Sassuolo, Vignola, Carpi, Soliera e in tutto il modenese
Allora a questo punto uno di Cuneo o di Rossano Calabro può chiedere
Ma io che cazzo centro? Perché?
Qui da voi c'è molta gente in giro per strada alla sera? Non so
Fo acsé che un bel dé tot quant al vilag
Par pòra d′la béssa I v'liven scaper
Quelch d′un al pruveva a fèeres curag
Ma in dal meinter sercheva un sit par purtèr
Fiol e baioc, gat e cagnin, tàgi e tigin e fin tamaras
Tot a scaper in dal turioun par pòra dal Magalas!
In vatta a la tor ig steven tot quant
Imbianchein, cuntadein, sert e dutor
Sgor, bariagoz, pret e cantant
Tot a brigher in cal sit sicur
A avrir n'ustari, na scola, n′impiant
Negozi, buteghi e fin baladur
Tot i fùreb e i caioun a strichè in dal turioun
La fola l'ariva a Sasol, a Vgnola
A Cherp e Sulera, in tot al Mudnes
La ginta la scapa, la sèra butega
A's voda al stredi in tot i paes
Acsé quand a vin un quelch furester
E al d′manda perché a′n gh'è nisun a spas
Deg "I ein tot nascost in dal turioun par pòra dal Magalas!"
Perché?
Perché l′è negher com un cancher, l'è cativ e l′è arabii
Ed not a't selta in testa, a′t magna i oc, a't magna i di
L'è nascost in sema al graner, l′è là c′al t'aspeta in mez a i sas
La ginta l′an dorem piò a seinter la fola dal Magalas
L'è negher com un cancher, l′è cativ e l'è arabii
Ed not a′t selta in testa, a't magna i oc, a't magna i di
L′è nascost in sema al graner, l′è là c'al t′aspeta in mez a i sas
La ginta l'an dorem piò a seinter la fola dal Magalas
Ah, da qui l′espressione incazzato come una biscia!

The Tale of the Magalas

Listen carefully, this is an old story
It's the story of the Magalas, a tale that goes around Modena and Bologna
It speaks of a black snake, enormous, mean, and also quite angry
That hides in winter and comes out in March
And when it does, it's trouble for everyone
In the intentions of the fable, everyone sees what they want in the Magalas
However, it remains a serpent, a nasty thing
You see...
This here is a tale that speaks of the beast
It was born in the countryside between green and gray
Now I'll sing it to you so you understand
To scare you and put you on alert
Be careful when you go out on the street at night
Because there's never anyone around
And all the skinny, all the fat
They're afraid of the Magalas
The Magalas is a beast that was born in Panaro
It's six meters long, some say eight
In winter it hides among the gravel
But in March it comes out and it's trouble for all
Some saw it in the courtyard, some in the closet
Some in the cellar among the dusty wines
All the young, all the old
Now they say it's back
It's black as coal, it's mean and it's angry
At night it jumps on your head, it eats your eyes, it eats your days
It's hidden on top of the granary, it's there waiting for you among the sacks
People can't sleep anymore hearing the tale of the Magalas
The story continues to scare and warn you
The villagers abandon it for fear of the serpent
The story reaches Sassuolo, Vignola, Carpi, Soliera and all of Modena
So at this point someone from Cuneo or Rossano Calabro might ask
But what the hell do I have to do with it? Why?
Do you have many people walking around here in the evening? I don't know
So it happened that one fine day the whole village
For fear of the beast they wanted to escape
Someone tried to encourage them
But in the meantime he was looking for a place to take
Children and money, cats and dogs, cuts and bruises and even anxieties
Everyone running away to the tower for fear of the Magalas!
Up in the tower they were all there
Whitewashers, farmers, lords and doctors
Drunks, chatterboxes, priests and singers
All crammed into that safe place
To open a tavern, a school, a factory
Shops, stalls and even dance halls
All the thieves and the scoundrels squeezed into the tower
The tale reaches Sassuolo, Vignola
Carpi and Soliera, all of Modena
People flee, they close their shops
The streets are emptied in all the towns
So when a foreigner comes
And asks why there is no one around
Say "They're all hidden in the tower for fear of the Magalas!"
Why?
Because it's black as coal, it's mean and it's angry
At night it jumps on your head, it eats your eyes, it eats your days
It's hidden on top of the granary, it's there waiting for you among the sacks
People can't sleep anymore hearing the tale of the Magalas
It's black as coal, it's mean and it's angry
At night it jumps on your head, it eats your eyes, it eats your days
It's hidden on top of the granary, it's there waiting for you among the sacks
People can't sleep anymore hearing the tale of the Magalas
Ah, hence the expression "pissed off like a snake!"