Il fannullone (English translation)

  • Artist: Fabrizio De André
  • Song: Il fannullone 5 translations
  • Translations: English #1, #2, French, Italian (Southern Italian dialects), Polish

The Bums

Versions: #1#2
You know I don't like to exaggerate
but I'll often be sleeping for twelve hours straight
And that is the reason why all through the slum
The people who know me, know I'm a bum
The good people that know me don't give me strife
for they know I'll never do a thing in my life
While you wander the streets all through the night
scheming your dreams of glory and spite,
telling your tales to a few weary men
their empty glazed stares or they're laughing again
You play out for the others your annoying roles
as through life, like a comedy, you stroll
It's not that I haven't tried to work
With my best efforts, I wouldn't shirk
but the only results these attempts carved
was to leave me, tragically, even more starved
The good people that know me, they don't resent
that the fetters of work are for me a torment
They gave you employment at a large bistro
washing the plates of the rich, an elegant show
but you said "the sky above is my only fortune
and the dish water is not reflecting the moon "
You returned to sing stories by the roadside at night
your hair full of straw and your shoes full of mites
And I'll never be that repugnant mutt,
without morals and clothes torn up or cut,
happy to take away scraps and old bones,
thrown with loving and contemptuous tones.
The bum knows how to make your heart beat race,
the stray dog ​​has found his true love's face
You thought of marriage as the turn of a dance
You loved your woman like a summer romance
you took to your home to hide from your languor
for a coat rack to hang up your jacket in anger
and as your sweet wife began to console her sadness
she looked for company to attenuate the madness
And she left one day without making a sound
perhaps singing of love, her feet light on the ground
She'd sing it to a world by now weary of love
which distractedly watched from the side or above
but she will return on a cold summer's night
and the stars will applaud, by now not so bright
the streetlights on high shall light up their way
the strange dance of of two bums, ever more stray
the distant moon rising will be silvery-white
and shine on a pair of black cats in the night
Submitted by Matsi BashMatsi Bash on Fri, 12/08/2016 - 16:10
Author's comments:

Obviously it took a bit of tweaking to make it rhyme and follow a (pretty dodgy!) metre but I'm relatively happy with the result.


Il fannullone