Volume 8: Dolce Luna - Sweet Moon

Cammina come un vecchio marinaio non ha più un posto dove andare la terra sotto i piedi non lo aspetta strano modo di ballare sua moglie ha un altro uomo e un'altra donna, è proprio un uomo da buttare e nelle tasche gli è rimasta solo un po' di polvere di mare e non può testimoniare. Si muove sopra i sassi come un leone invernale ti può parlare ore ed ore della sua quarta guerra mondiale conserva la sua cena dentro a un foglio di giornale la sua ragazza "esca dalle lunghe gambe" fa all'amore niente male e non può testimoniare. Lui vide il marinaio indiano alzarsi in piedi e barcollare con un coltello nella schiena tra la schiuma e la stella polare e il timoniere di Shanghai tornò tranquillo a pilotare e lui lo vide con l'anello al dito e un altro anello da rubare ma non può testimoniare. Dal buio delle tango notti "Balla Linda" alla paralisi di un porto, la luce delle stelle chiare come un rifugio capovolto, la sua balena "Dolce Luna" che lo aspetta in alto mare, gli ha detto molte volte "Amore, con chi mi vuoi dimenticare" e non può testimoniare e non può testimoniare. E tu mi vieni a dire voglio un figlio su cui potermi regolare con due occhi qualunque e il terzo occhio inconfondibile e speciale che non ti importa niente se non riuscirà a nuotare l'importante è che abbia sulla guancia destra quella mia voglia di mare e mi dici ancora che il mio nome glielo devo proprio dare ma non so testimoniare io non so testimoniare. Dolce Luna © 1975 Fabrizio De André/Francesco De Gregori De André and De Gregori had worked together on the translation of Bob Dylan's Desolation Row that appeared on De Andrè's previous album. Perhaps "Dolce Luna" was crafted out of an admiration for Dylan's often cryptic and image-rich lyric style. The line about "long-legged bait" refers to a Dylan Thomas poem "Ballad of the Long-legged Bait" from his 1946 collection Deaths and Entrances.

He walks like an old sailor, he no longer has any place to go. The ground under his feet doesn't wait for him - strange way of dancing. His wife has another man and another woman, it’s just a man to throw out, and in his pockets there remains only a bit of dust from the sea, and he cannot testify. He moves over the stones like a winter lion, he can talk to you for hours and hours about his fourth world war. He saves his dinner wrapped in newspaper His girl “long-legged bait” makes love not bad, and he cannot testify. He saw the Indian sailor getting up on his feet and staggering with a knife in his back between the foam and the North Star, and the coxswain of Shanghai returned, calm, to pilot and he saw him with a ring on his finger and another ring to steal, but he cannot testify. From the darkness of the tango nights “Pretty Dance” to the paralysis of a harbor, the bright starlight like a refuge overturned. His whale “Sweet Moon” that waited for him in high seas, told him many times “Love, with whom do you want to forget me?” And he cannot testify and he cannot testify. And you come to me to say I want a son on whom I can model myself, with any old two eyes and a third eye, unmistakable and special, that you don’t give a damn about if he doesn’t manage to swim. The important thing is that he has on the right cheek that mark of mine for the sea. And you still tell me that my name I just have to give to him, but I don’t know how to testify I don’t know how to testify. 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!

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