Tua madre ce l'ha molto con me
perché sono sposato e in più canto
però canto bene e non so se tua madre
sia altrettanto capace a vergognarsi di me.
La gazza che ti ho regalato
è morta, tua sorella ne ha pianto,
quel giorno non avevano fiori, peccato,
quel giorno vendevano gazze parlanti.
E speravo che avrebbe insegnato a tua madre
A dirmi "Ciao come stai",
insomma non proprio a cantare
per quello ci sono già io come sai.
I miei amici sono tutti educati con te
però vestono in modo un po' strano
mi consigli di mandarli da un sarto e mi chiedi
"Sono loro stasera i migliori che abbiamo ".
E adesso ridi e ti versi un cucchiaio di mimosa
Nell'imbuto di un polsino slacciato.
I miei amici ti hanno dato la mano,
li accompagno, il loro viaggio porta un po' più lontano.
E tu aspetta un amore più fidato
il tuo accendino sai io l'ho già regalato
e lo stesso quei due peli d'elefante
mi fermavano il sangue
li ho dati a un passante.
Poi il resto viene sempre da sé
i tuoi "Aiuto" saranno ancora salvati
io mi dico è stato meglio lasciarci
che non esserci mai incontrati.
Giugno '73 © 1975 Fabrizio De André
"Giugno '73" is an autobiographical song about a relationship De André had with a woman in between his first and second wives. While the relationship was broken off by the woman, De André looks back on everything with no regrets. He managed to maintain good relations with the women he had loved, even after intimate relationships were over.
Your mother has it in for me
because I am married, and what’s more I sing.
But I sing well, and I don’t know if your mother
can be as much ashamed of me as I am good at singing.
The magpie I gave you as a gift
is dead. Your sister cried for it.
That day they didn’t have flowers. Too bad,
that day they were selling talking magpies.
And I was hoping it would have taught your mother
to tell me “Hi how are you?”
In other words, not just to sing.
That’s why I’m already there, as you know.
My friends are all well-mannered with you,
but they dress in a style a little strange.
You advise me to send them to a tailor and you ask me,
“Are they the best that we have tonight?”
And now you laugh and pour yourself a spoonful of mimosa
in the funnel of an unbuttoned cuff.
My friends gave you a hand.
I accompany them, their voyage carries on a bit further.
And you wait for a more reliable love.
Your cigarette lighter, you know I already gave it away,
same as those two elephant hairs.
They stopped my blood.
You gave them to a passerby.
Then the rest always unfolds on its own,
your “Help”s will still be rescued.
I tell myself it was better to leave each other
than never to have met.
English translation © 2014 Dennis Criteser
Volume 8, released in 1975, was largely the fruit of three months of hanging out and writing with Francesco De Gregori at De André's Sardinia home, after De André had traveled to Rome to hear the young songwriter perform live. De André was inspired by the possibilities and extended an invitation to De Gregori to visit. Five of the songs have De Gregori's mark on them, and there are two new De André songs and another Leonard Cohen cover. Critics weren't too kind to this album, thinking it was too influenced by De Gregori and rather obscure in some of the lyrics. If you like De André, though, you will find plenty to like here, critics be damned!