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That Night in Front of the "Bussola"

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Предыстория создания[edit]

См. статью Quella notte davanti alla Bussola.

Текст[edit]

В 1999 году Рикардо Вентури (Riccardo Venturi) написал английский вариант песни.

  • That night in front of the "Bussola"
  • In the cold New Year’s eve,
  • That new year’s night
  • We shan’t never forget.
  • The Gentlemen they arrived
  • With their luxury motor cars,
  • Casting scornful looks
  • At students and workers.
  • The ladies in evening dress
  • With their shoulders cover’d by furs,
  • The Powerful with their bow-ties
  • And all their starchy faces.
  • They were the same Gentlemen
  • Who exploit us all the year long,
  • Those who make us die
  • In the factories nearby
  • They came to rejoice and drink
  • After a whole year of exploitation,
  • Hoping that the year to come
  • Will bring them still more profit
  • The Comrades, they know well
  • All of them and cannot stop,
  • And they throw rotten tomatoes,
  • And they all spit at their faces
  • But someone’s blown in a trumpet
  • To defend those exploiters,
  • The Police are rushing quickly
  • And is having a free-for-all
  • How beautiful the cops are
  • When they beat up people in handcuffs,
  • The young Comrades in high school age
  • Fourteen to seventeen years old
  • And they don’t stop beating
  • If the lieutenant don’t tell them to stop,
  • They’re the most realistic image
  • Of our established order
  • And we already can see the Police
  • Drawing up in battle array
  • To begin the man-hunt
  • With patrol and armoured cars
  • We can’t flee away from there
  • And leave our Comrades behind,
  • We’ve been caught into a trap
  • And cannot reach our cars
  • We decide to hold out
  • And we build up barricades
  • That’s a better way to resist
  • The subsequent attacks
  • From the first barricade
  • To the area held by the Police
  • There’s a dark no man’s land
  • Of about thirty yards
  • When the Police begins to advance
  • A cop fires a shot in the air,
  • The Comrades they throw stones
  • Trying to stop the Police
  • The Police stops for a moment,
  • Then they retake their advance,
  • Now it isn’t one only,
  • Now a lot of them is shooting
  • From the first barricade
  • We can see well the guns,
  • But from the other one, the Comrades
  • Think they are only petards
  • We draw back all together
  • To the other barricade,
  • And the cops they retreat,
  • The thing’s taking a bad turn
  • One hour more of attacks
  • We with our stones and they with their guns,
  • And we think they’re firing blank shots
  • Even from an armoured car
  • But, suddenly, I see a Comrade
  • Fall to the ground to my right,
  • He falls on his knees with a hole
  • And his trousers stained with blood
  • I turn and shout: "They’re shooting!"
  • And I run backwards for a while,
  • Two Comrades carry on their shoulders
  • The Comrade wounded in one leg
  • Running fast on the street’s pavement
  • And pursued by the Police,
  • I can see Ceccanti mortally wounded
  • Being carried on the sidewalk
  • We all do our best to help him,
  • But it’s difficult to find rescue
  • While we’re pursued by the cops,
  • They give us no respite
  • Luckily, we find a runabout
  • And we take Ceccanti away,
  • There’s nothing more we can do
  • But running away in haste
  • Maybe tonight at the "Bussola"
  • The masters have taken offence,
  • They who offend us and kill us
  • For the remaining twelve months
  • We’d better offending them more often
  • And never giving them any respite,
  • Every time these Gentlemen
  • Happen to be within our range
  • And now I think we should make
  • Some remarks on the situation,
  • On the different ugly faces
  • The Masters show us nowadays
  • They have money to buy us,
  • They give work to exploit us,
  • They have their Police to kill us
  • And the TV to cheat us
  • The only good thing we can do
  • Is revolting, refusing their tricks,
  • Refusing their false freedom,
  • That’s all shit for the people
  • The only good thing we can do
  • Is revolting, refusing their tricks,
  • Refusing their false freedom
  • That’s all shit for the people.

Категория:Песни