Canzoni: Via della Povertà - Desolation Row (Bob Dylan)

Il Salone di bellezza in fondo al vicolo è affollatissimo di marinai prova a chiedere a uno che ore sono e ti risponderà "non l'ho saputo mai". Le cartoline dell'impiccagione sono in vendita a cento lire l'una il commissario cieco dietro la stazione per un indizio ti legge la sfortuna e le forze dell'ordine irrequiete cercano qualcosa che non va mentre io e la mia signora ci affacciamo stasera su Via della povertà. Cenerentola sembra così facile ogni volta che sorride ti cattura ricorda proprio Bette Davis con le mani appoggiate alla cintura. Arriva Romeo trafelato e le grida "il mio amore sei tu" ma qualcuno gli dice di andar via e di non riprovarci più e l'unico suono che rimane quando l'ambulanza se ne va è Cenerentola che spazza la strada in via della Povertà. Mentre l'alba sta uccidendo la luna e le stelle si son quasi nascoste la signora che legge la fortuna se n'è andata in compagnia dell'oste. Ad eccezione di Abele e di Caino tutti quanti sono andati a far l'amore aspettando che venga la pioggia ad annacquare la gioia ed il dolore e il Buon Samaritano sta affilando la sua pietà se ne andrà al Carnevale stasera in via della Povertà. I tre Re Magi sono disperati Gesù Bambino è diventato vecchio e Mister Hyde piange sconcertato vedendo Jeckyll che ride nello specchio. Ofelia è dietro la finestra mai nessuno le ha detto che è bella a soli ventidue anni è già una vecchia zitella la sua morte sarà molto romantica trasformandosi in oro se ne andrà per adesso cammina avanti e indietro in via della Povertà. Einstein travestito da ubriacone ha nascosto i suoi appunti in un baule è passato di qui un'ora fa diretto verso l'ultima Thule, sembrava così timido e impaurito quando ha chiesto di fermarsi un po' qui ma poi ha cominciato a fumare e a recitare l'A B C ed a vederlo tu non lo diresti mai ma era famoso qualche tempo fa per suonare il violino elettrico in via della Povertà. Ci si prepara per la grande festa c'è qualcuno che comincia ad aver sete il fantasma dell'opera si è vestito in abiti da prete sta ingozzando a viva forza Casanova per punirlo della sua sensualità lo ucciderà parlandogli d'amore dopo averlo avvelenato di pietà e mentre il fantasma grida tre ragazze si son spogliate già Casanova sta per essere violentato in via della Povertà. E bravo Nettuno mattacchione il Titanic sta affondando nell'aurora nelle scialuppe i posti letto sono tutti occupati e il capitano grida "ce ne stanno ancora", e Ezra Pound e Thomas Eliot fanno a pugni nella torre di comando i suonatori di calipso ridono di loro mentre il cielo si sta allontanando e affacciati alle loro finestre nel mare tutti pescano mimose e lillà e nessuno deve più preoccuparsi di via della Povertà. A mezzanotte in punto i poliziotti fanno il loro solito lavoro metton le manette intorno ai polsi a quelli che ne sanno più di loro, i prigionieri vengon trascinati su un calvario improvvisato lì vicino e il caporale Adolfo li ha avvisati che passeranno tutti dal camino e il vento ride forte e nessuno riuscirà a ingannare il suo destino in via della Povertà. La tua lettera l'ho avuta proprio ieri mi racconti tutto quel che fai ma non essere ridicola non chiedermi "come stai", questa gente di cui mi vai parlando è gente come tutti noi non mi sembra che siano mostri non mi sembra che siano eroi e non mandarmi ancora tue notizie nessuno ti risponderà se insisti a spedirmi le tue lettere da via della Povertà. Via della Povertà text © 1974 Fabrizio De André-Francesco De Gregori based on Desolation Row © 1965 Warner Bros Inc.; renewed 1993 by Special Rider Music De André regarded highly the work of Bob Dylan, both for its literary quality and for the many Biblical references found therein. De André considered Dylan part poet and part prophet. This translation was one of the first collaborations between De André and Francesco De Gregori, and it led to the creation of the subsequent album Volume 8. Bob Dylan text for Desolation Row: They’re selling postcards of the hanging They’re painting the passports brown The beauty parlor is filled with sailors The circus is in town Here comes the blind commissioner They’ve got him in a trance One hand is tied to the tight-rope walker The other is in his pants And the riot squad they’re restless They need somewhere to go As Lady and I look out tonight From Desolation Row Cinderella, she seems so easy “It takes one to know one,” she smiles And puts her hands in her back pockets Bette Davis style And in comes Romeo, he’s moaning “You Belong to Me I Believe” And someone says, “You’re in the wrong place my friend You better leave” And the only sound that’s left After the ambulances go Is Cinderella sweeping up On Desolation Row Now the moon is almost hidden The stars are beginning to hide The fortune-telling lady Has even taken all her things inside All except for Cain and Abel And the hunchback of Notre Dame Everybody is making love Or else expecting rain And the Good Samaritan, he’s dressing He’s getting ready for the show He’s going to the carnival tonight On Desolation Row Now Ophelia, she’s ’neath the window For her I feel so afraid On her twenty-second birthday She already is an old maid To her, death is quite romantic She wears an iron vest Her profession’s her religion Her sin is her lifelessness And though her eyes are fixed upon Noah’s great rainbow She spends her time peeking Into Desolation Row Einstein, disguised as Robin Hood With his memories in a trunk Passed this way an hour ago With his friend, a jealous monk He looked so immaculately frightful As he bummed a cigarette Then he went off sniffing drainpipes And reciting the alphabet Now you would not think to look at him But he was famous long ago For playing the electric violin On Desolation Row Dr. Filth, he keeps his world Inside of a leather cup But all his sexless patients They’re trying to blow it up Now his nurse, some local loser She’s in charge of the cyanide hole And she also keeps the cards that read “Have Mercy on His Soul” They all play on pennywhistles You can hear them blow If you lean your head out far enough From Desolation Row Across the street they’ve nailed the curtains They’re getting ready for the feast The Phantom of the Opera A perfect image of a priest They’re spoonfeeding Casanova To get him to feel more assured Then they’ll kill him with self-confidence After poisoning him with words And the Phantom’s shouting to skinny girls “Get Outa Here If You Don’t Know Casanova is just being punished for going To Desolation Row” Now at midnight all the agents And the superhuman crew Come out and round up everyone That knows more than they do Then they bring them to the factory Where the heart-attack machine Is strapped across their shoulders And then the kerosene Is brought down from the castles By insurance men who go Check to see that nobody is escaping To Desolation Row Praise be to Nero’s Neptune The Titanic sails at dawn And everybody’s shouting “Which Side Are You On?” And Ezra Pound and T. S. Eliot Fighting in the captain’s tower While calypso singers laugh at them And fishermen hold flowers Between the windows of the sea Where lovely mermaids flow And nobody has to think too much About Desolation Row Yes, I received your letter yesterday (About the time the doorknob broke) When you asked how I was doing Was that some kind of joke? All these people that you mention Yes, I know them, they’re quite lame I had to rearrange their faces And give them all another name Right now I can’t read too good Don’t send me no more letters, no Not unless you mail them From Desolation Row

The beauty parlor at the back of the alley is packed with sailors. Try to ask one what time it is and he’ll tell you “I never knew it.” The postcards of the hanging are for sale, a hundred lira apiece. The blind commissioner behind the station reads your misfortune for a clue and the restless forces of order search for something that doesn’t work while my lady and I look out the window tonight onto Poverty Way. Cinderella seems so easy, every time she smiles she catches you, reminiscent of Bette Davis with her hands resting against her belt. Romeo arrives panting and shouts to her “My love, it’s you.” But someone tells him to go away and not to try it again, and the only sound that remains when the ambulance goes is Cinderella sweeping the street on Poverty Way. While the dawn is killing the moon and the stars are almost hidden, the fortune telling lady went away in the company of the innkeeper. Except for Cain and Abel everyone went to make love, expecting that the rain might come to water down the joy and the sorrow. And the Good Samaritan is honing his mercy, he’ll go to the Carnival tonight on Poverty Way. The three Wise Men are desperate, Baby Jesus became old and Mister Hyde is crying disconcerted watching Jeckyll who is laughing in the mirror. Ofelia is behind the window, no one ever told her that she’s beautiful. At only twenty two years of age she’s already an old maid. Her death will be very romantic, transforming herself into gold she’ll go away. For now she walks back and forth on Poverty Way. Einstein, dressed as a drunkard, hid his notes in a trunk. He passed this way an hour ago straight towards the final Thule. He seemed so shy and scared when he asked to stop a bit here, but then he started to smoke and to recite the A B C's, and to see him you would never say it, but he was famous some time ago for playing the electric violin on Poverty Way. In preparing for the big party there’s someone who’s starting to be thirsty The phantom of the opera is dressed in the clothes of a priest, he is force feeding Casanova to punish him for his sensuality. He'll kill him, speaking to him of love after having poisoned him with pity, and while the phantom shouts three girls are already stripped naked - Casanova is about to be raped on Poverty Way. And way to go Neptune, joker! The Titanic is sinking in the dawn. In the lifeboat the beds are all taken and the captain shouts, “There still are some.” And Ezra Pound and Thomas Eliot are fighting in the captain’s tower. The calypso players laugh at them while the sky is becoming distant, and leaning from their windows to the sea everyone fishes for mimosas and lilacs and no one has to be too worried about Poverty Way. At midnight on the dot the police do their usual work putting handcuffs around the wrists of the ones who know more than they do. The prisoners come to be dragged to an improvised Calvary nearby, and lance corporal Adolf informed them that they will all pass from the chimney, and the wind laughs strongly, and no one will manage to trick his destiny on Poverty Way. Your letter I had just yesterday, you recount everything you’re doing. But don’t be ridiculous, don’t ask me “How are you?” These people of whom you're speaking are people like all of us, it doesn’t seem to me that they’re monsters, it doesn’t seem to me that they’re heroes. And don’t send me still your news, no one will respond to you if you insist on sending your letters from Poverty Way. English translation © 2014 Dennis Criteser Canzoni, released in 1974, was a "filler" album, like Volume III, desired by De André's label. The only three previously unreleased songs here are covers of Dylan's "Desolation Row" and of two songs by Georges Brassens. Also included are two covers of Leonard Cohen songs. De André/De Gregori text, translated, for Desolation Row: The beauty parlor at the back of the alley is packed with sailors. Try to ask one what time it is and he’ll tell you “I never knew it.” The postcards of the hanging are for sale, a hundred lira apiece. The blind commissioner behind the station reads your misfortune for a clue and the restless forces of order search for something that doesn’t work while my lady and I look out the window tonight onto Poverty Way. Cinderella seems so easy, every time she smiles she catches you, reminiscent of Bette Davis with her hands resting against her belt. Romeo arrives panting and shouts to her “My love, it’s you.” But someone tells him to go away and not to try it again, and the only sound that remains when the ambulance goes is Cinderella sweeping the street on Poverty Way. While the dawn is killing the moon and the stars are almost hidden, the fortune telling lady went away in the company of the innkeeper. Except for Cain and Abel everyone went to make love, expecting that the rain might come to water down the joy and the sorrow. And the Good Samaritan is honing his mercy, he’ll go to the Carnival tonight on Poverty Way. The three Wise Men are desperate, Baby Jesus became old and Mister Hyde is crying disconcerted watching Jeckyll who is laughing in the mirror. Ofelia is behind the window, no one ever told her that she’s beautiful. At only twenty two years of age she’s already an old maid. Her death will be very romantic, transforming herself into gold she’ll go away. For now she walks back and forth on Poverty Way. Einstein, dressed as a drunkard, hid his notes in a trunk. He passed this way an hour ago straight towards the final Thule. He seemed so shy and scared when he asked to stop a bit here, but then he started to smoke and to recite the A B C's, and to see him you would never say it, but he was famous some time ago for playing the electric violin on Poverty Way. In preparing for the big party there’s someone who’s starting to be thirsty The phantom of the opera is dressed in the clothes of a priest, he is force feeding Casanova to punish him for his sensuality. He'll kill him, speaking to him of love after having poisoned him with pity, and while the phantom shouts three girls are already stripped naked - Casanova is about to be raped on Poverty Way. And way to go Neptune, joker! The Titanic is sinking in the dawn. In the lifeboat the beds are all taken and the captain shouts, “There still are some.” And Ezra Pound and Thomas Eliot are fighting in the captain’s tower. The calypso players laugh at them while the sky is becoming distant, and leaning from their windows to the sea everyone fishes for mimosas and lilacs and no one has to be too worried about Poverty Way. At midnight on the dot the police do their usual work putting handcuffs around the wrists of the ones who know more than they do. The prisoners come to be dragged to an improvised Calvary nearby, and lance corporal Adolf informed them that they will all pass from the chimney, and the wind laughs strongly, and no one will manage to trick his destiny on Poverty Way. Your letter I had just yesterday, you recount everything you’re doing. But don’t be ridiculous, don’t ask me “How are you?” These people of whom you're speaking are people like all of us, it doesn’t seem to me that they’re monsters, it doesn’t seem to me that they’re heroes. And don’t send me still your news, no one will respond to you if you insist on sending your letters from Poverty Way.

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