Nuvole barocche: Carlo Martello ritorna dalla battaglia di Poitiers Charles Martel Returns from the Battle of Poitiers

Re Carlo tornava dalla guerra lo accoglie la sua terra cingendolo d'allor al sol della calda primavera lampeggia l'armatura del sire vincitor il sangue del principe del Moro arrossano il cimiero d'identico color ma più che del corpo le ferite da Carlo son sentite le bramosie d'amor "se ansia di gloria e sete d'onore spegne la guerra al vincitore non ti concede un momento per fare all'amore chi poi impone alla sposa soave di castità la cintura ahimè è grave in battaglia può correre il rischio di perder la chiave" così si lamenta il Re cristiano s'inchina intorno il grano gli son corona i fior lo specchio di chiara fontanella riflette fiero in sella dei Mori il vincitor Quand'ecco nell'acqua si compone mirabile visione il simbolo d'amor nel folto di lunghe trecce bionde il seno si confonde ignudo in pieno sol "Mai non fu vista cosa più bella mai io non colsi siffatta pulzella" disse Re Carlo scendendo veloce di sella "De' cavaliere non v'accostate già d'altri è gaudio quel che cercate ad altra più facile fonte la sete calmate" Sorpreso da un dire sì deciso sentendosi deriso Re Carlo s'arrestò ma più dell'onor poté il digiuno fremente l'elmo bruno il sire si levò codesta era l'arma sua segreta da Carlo spesso usata in gran difficoltà alla donna apparve un gran nasone e un volto da caprone ma era sua maestà "Se voi non foste il mio sovrano" Carlo si sfila il pesante spadone "non celerei il disio di fuggirvi lontano, ma poiché siete il mio signore" Carlo si toglie l'intero gabbione "debbo concedermi spoglia ad ogni pudore" Cavaliere egli era assai valente ed anche in quel frangente d'onor si ricoprì e giunto alla fin della tenzone incerto sull'arcione tentò di risalir veloce lo arpiona la pulzella repente una parcella presenta al suo signor "Beh proprio perché voi siete il sire fan cinquemila lire è un prezzo di favor" "E' mai possibile o porco di un cane che le avventure in codesto reame debban risolversi tutte con grandi puttane, anche sul prezzo c'è poi da ridire ben mi ricordo che pria di partire v'eran tariffe inferiori alle tremila lire" Ciò detto agì da gran cialtrone con balzo da leone in sella si lanciò frustando il cavallo come un ciuco fra i glicini e il sambuco il Re si dileguò Re Carlo tornava dalla guerra lo accoglie la sua terra cingendolo d'allor al sol della calda primavera lampeggia l'armatura del sire vincitor Carlo Martello ritorna dalla battaglia di Poitiers © 1963 Fabrizio De André/Paolo Villagio This song was released in 1963 as the B side of a 45 with "Il fannullone" as the A-side. The text was written by a friend from childhood, Paolo Villagio, and the music is by De André. The Battle of Poitiers occurred in 732, a battle between the Franks and the Moors in what is now northern France. The song is in the style of popular French pastourelles sung by medieval troubadours about encounters between knights and country girls. In 1965 a complaint was brought against De André and his label Karim for obscene content in the lyrics. The case was settled in De André's favor in 1968. The Italian in this song is an old style, and Riccardo Venturi has done a nice translation into a similarly "olde" style of English.

King Charles was returning from the war. His land welcomes him, crowning him with a laurel. In the hot spring sun flashes the suit of armor of the victorious Sire. The blood of the prince and the Moor redden the crest, of identical color. But more than the wounds of the body, Charles felt the yearning for love. “If eagerness for glory and a thirst for honor extinguish war for the victor, it allows you not a moment to pursue love. "One, then, who imposes on the gentle wife the chastity belt - alas it is heavy - in battle can run the risk of losing the key.” Thus complains the Christian king. The grain bows down and flowers gather about. The mirror of the clear fountain reflects, proud in his saddle, the victor of the Moors. When here in the water is formed, marvelous vision, the symbol of love - in the fullness of the long blond braids the breast intermingles, naked in broad daylight. “Never was seen something more beautiful, never did I catch such a maid,” said King Charles, dismounting quickly from his saddle. “But oh, Knight, come no closer, that which you seek is already the joy of another. Quench your thirst from some easier spring.” Surprised by a response so sharp, feeling put down, King Charles stopped. But greater than honor was the power of abstinence. Trembling, his brown helm the King lifted off. This was the secret weapon by Charles often used in dire straights - to the woman appeared a big nose and the face of a goat, but it was her majesty. “If you were not my sovereign,” - Charles takes off his heavy sword - “I wouldn’t conceal the desire to run far away." "But since you are my Lord,” - Charles frees himself from the prison of his armor - “I must give myself over bare to every shame.” He was indeed a valiant knight, and even at that juncture was covered again with honor. And, conjoined at the end of the duel, uncertain, the saddle he tried to remount. Quickly the maiden harpooned him. Suddenly a bill she presents to her Lord. “Ah, just because you are my Lord, it’s five thousand lira, a special price.” “It’s ever possible, son of a bitch, that the adventures in this realm should all end up with big whores. "Even the price, then, can be criticized. I remember well that before I left there were lower prices of three thousand lira.” Thus spoken, he acted like a scoundrel - with the leap of a lion he mounted his steed. Whipping the horse as if it were a donkey, through the wisteria and elderberries the king disappeared. King Charles returned from the war. His land welcomes him, crowning him with a laurel. In the hot spring sun flashes the suit of armor of the victorious Sire. English translation © 2014 Dennis Criteser Nuvole barocche, released in 1969, is a collection of De André’s singles from 1961-1965.

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