THE ECHO OF MERMAIDS

L'idea che gli altri hanno di noi
non è un dettaglio trascurabile
l'assenza d'opinione
un'acetosi endemica

signora, il suo pregiato cocker
sta pisciando sui sacchi della spesa
i miei
per precisione
e mi scuso se in qualche modo ho intralciato l'operazione.

quelli che sorpassano a destra
hanno sguardi spietati
e lanciati con soddisfazione
in fondo
chi non ha peccato si sposti dal branco

per favore

è questione di educazione
torna a casa scimmione
proprio in questa città ci dovevi portare

il terrore

abbia fede, sono un dottore
si faccia curare
preso in tempo il razzismo non è mortale

l'idea che gli altri di noi

decade più o meno al quadrato della distanza dal vero
uomini topo, una nuova frontiera genetica

quelli che
sul treno discutono al cellulare
e costringono ad ascoltare
"mamma fattene una ragione, non mangio la carne"

per favore

è questione di educazione
apertura mentale
metta i suoi pregiudizi da un'altra parte

è immorale

questa ondata omosessuale
ma un vaccino speciale
toglierà ai nostri figli il peccato originale

Narcissist, butter me up with words
That melt under the hot breath of passion
Narcissist, transparency and mystery
Cover me with oil, almonds and vanity

Shape me…

Tell  me the stories you like to invent

Frighten me

Tell me about new exciting victories
Win me over, invent me, give me a new identity
Stun me, leave me defenceless and then strike
Embrace me and intoxicate me with irony and sensuality
Narcissist, butter me up with words
That hide the proverbial selfishness of your intentions
Narcissist, what a sublime façade
Shower me with elegant lavish attentions 

Inspire me

Tell  me the stories you like to invent

Frighten me

Tell me about new exciting victories
Win me over, invent me, give me a new identity
Stun me, leave me defenceless and then strike
Embrace me and intoxicate me with irony and sensuality
Embrace me and intoxicate me with irony and sensuality

Win me over
Win me over
Win me over

I’m wearing red lipstick in sign of mourning
And a black coat
My uncle was a distinguished man.
Don’t cry, mother! Just swallow it down and forget
His greedy hands between my legs
He’s in God’s grace now

Good girl, play eenie, meeny, miny, moe
The less shame you feel the better your score
Let’s play Blind Man’s Buff
Your uncle is taking you to the mountains

We pay our final respects to a pure soul
A noble example as a father, brother and friend
And I feel their deep contempt, their eyes on me
I revealed the sordid incest and nobody believed me
Good girl, a little bit at a time
Don’t worry, it won’t bite or run away
Let’s play Blind Man’s Buff
Your uncle is taking you on holiday

Good girl play eenie, meeny, miny, moe
Those who seek sooner or later shall find
Do it again sweetie
Your uncle is taking you to the merry-go-round
Your uncle is taking you to the merry-go-round

I’m wearing bright red lipstick
And nothing under my coat …
In honour of my persecutor.

Of all the days you had to choose from
Why did you have to leave on a Monday?
Birds are singing and summer is nearly here
Time for sun, sea and lemon water-ices
No mincing of words in the witty
and subtly sarcastic comments you could have made

Up with Italy, soccer and testosterone!
Shady dealings and hormone-ridden sluts!
We like tv rather a lot I’d say
I mean - the actual tv set – on display in the drawing room
Who knows what bitter remarks
You would have made out of a sheer sense of decency

Send us a postcard and a cheerful picture
Of you sunbathing on the beach
Wearing a typical white shirt, reading the sports page
And lingering upon the strand basking in the sunset

Of all the days you had to choose from
Why did you have to leave on a Monday?
Hectic street traffic and arguments at the crossroads 
Lots of bad-mannered people in ugly looking cars
Who knows how witty and subtly sarcastic
You could have been in such miserable circumstances

Send us a postcard and a cheerful picture
Of you sunbathing on the beach
Wearing a typical white shirt and reading the sports page
Lingering on the strand and humming a love song

Send us a postcard and a cheerful picture
Of you sunbathing on the beach
Wearing a typical white shirt

Send us a postcard and a cheerful picture
As you linger on the strand
And with a sense of awe welcome a new day.

When April showers blur the horizon 
disconsolately fishermen bring their boats slowly 
back to the shore.
When April showers send housewives 
hurrying outdoors to salvage rows of white washing 
hanging on the line.
I know that summer's just round the corner 
playing hide and seek as it keeps us all waiting.

And through those melancholy winters, 
how cold the nights could be, 
my imitation of contentment was a parody.
All through those chilled and cheerless winters, 
cold comfort came slowly to an end, 
every cloud lost its silver-lining, 
having fun was playing a game of pretend.

April showers release the sweet scent of blossoming trees 
to ride the wind and go down to mingle 
with the salt-sea air.
I know that summer's just round the corner 
playing hide and seek as it keeps us all waiting.

And through those melancholy winters,
how cold the nights could be, 
my imitation of contentment was a parody.
All through those chilled and cheerless winters, 
cold comfort came slowly to an end.
What we missed then, most of all, 
was our indisputable right to laughter.

And through those melancholy winters, 
how cold the nights could be, 
my imitation of contentment was a parody.
And through those melancholy winters, 
how cold the nights could be, 
my imitation of contentment was a parody.

You look for shelter and brotherly love
You hold your arms out towards the mirror 
you stumble and with a stern look on your face    
you mumble a sad Modugno song      
about violins played by the wind      
the last kiss my sweet child               
burns on your face like drops of lemon juice 
the courageous bravery  of a ferocious farewell  
but those are tears and it’s raining
and it’s raining 
it’s raining …

Magical quiet, veiled indulgence
After a  relentless storm
You catch your breath and with intense ardour
Celebrate a meek, unusual awakening
A thousand violins played by the wind
The last embrace my beloved child
In the tenuous memory of a silver rainfall

A remorseless sense of no return
In those violins played by the wind
The last kiss my sweet child
burns on your face like drops of lemon juice 
the courageous bravery of a ferocious farewell  
but those are tears and it’s raining
and it’s raining 
and it’s raining
it’s raining …

Ah ah... 

Seeking attractive                                            
Well-endowed, enterprising young lady              
Young, smart                                                  
but, above all else, sweet and accommodating    

Seeking apprentice                                                            
upstanding, honest, entrepreneurial, law-abiding man                  
offers young career girls  
a chance for an unprecedented rise to success  

pure and untouched young woman wanted                        
used and well run-in woman wanted                                
Northern or Southern, local or illegal immigrant            
aaah  let’s see how you dance to the rhythm of the samba or the cha cha cha  
at first glance you are gifted and very telegenic      
but perhaps you’re more interested in music  
         
Seeking caregiver                                             
charming eighty-year-old millionaire                   
offers stray bitches                                        
the opportunity for a more well-to-do life         

unrepentant woman and thief wanted         
saintly woman with no criminal record  wanted        
freshly deceased will do, as long as she’s hot            

aaah how would you kiss if you were in the movies       
scene one – camera - action                                            
or maybe you’re interested in politics                           
aaah minister of red-light affairs or cosmetics   
nowadays there’s no difference between men and women       
Italy, our beautiful country, gives merit where merit  is worth           

how would you sing some of our pop songs ‘Anima Mia’ (‘My Soul’) or ‘Finche la barca va’ (‘The ship sails itself’)           
on first listening you seem to have a talent for opera music      
or maybe you’re interested in astrophysics......                                

Ah ah...

Deaf merciless mermaids
made the sad announcement
as the setting sun flooded 
the deserted roads
dark omens 
power games experienced first-hand
or by men armed with romantic ideals
whatever the reward
it will never be right

We will be ready to celebrate victory
and joyfully drink a toast amongst the ruins
few will be able to release themselves from poverty
and be happy about the glory however infinite 

The sharp echo of mermaids 
cuts our open wounds 
we waited helplessly for the enemy to attack
(and) perhaps for the last time 
power games experienced first-hand
or the irreparable damage of wasted childhood
who will pay for this
whoever carries the signs

We will be ready to celebrate victory
and joyfully drink a toast amongst the ruins
few will be able to release themselves from poverty
and be happy about the glory however infinite 

winners and losers
we will rebuild everything
winners and losers

Much has already been said
And daring words won’t feed illusions:
Winter is knocking at the door.
A guest just returned from a long journey
Hungry glances begging for a little taste
Of other people’s lives.

Before dawn
we might be caught
Carried away in the arms of Morpheus
To where clear waters devour our footsteps on the shores of our dreams

They surround us, move closer with a watchful pace
like beasts lying in wait
Run away, Romeo from the tyranny of time
It is not the nightingale’s but the lark’s song
Voracious looks pounce shamelessly
on that noble repast

Before dawn we might be caught
Carried away in the arms of Morpheus
To where clear waters devour our footsteps
Before dawn we might be caught
Carried away in the arms of Morpheus
To where clear waters devour our footsteps
on the shores of our dreams

I suffer seeing you
break the principles
which were the firm basis
of an exemplary dignity.
 
The questionable urgency
that makes it essential for people
to conform to the norm
is inadmissible.
 
They say that the return 
on any sacrifice is considerable, 
but the exception to the rule
undermines the norm.

If it is true that the return 
on any sacrifice is considerable,
then giving up your soul
would bring a handsome reward
 
I suffer seeing you
making  bizarre movements
controlled by a shrewd, 
string-pulling puppeteer .
 
Do you think 
escaping  the stern
and watchful gaze
of your own conscience
can be an admirable choice ?
 
They say that the return 
on any sacrifice is considerable,
but the exception to the rule
undermines the norm.

If it is true that the return 
on any sacrifice is considerable,
then giving up your soul
would bring a handsome reward

You are not obliged to understand me
I almost don’t feel the need to insist
you offered me a love made of plastic
but did you ever ask yourself if deceiving me was the honest thing to do

Remember you’re the one that’s not there when I cry
You’re the one that doesn’t  know when my birthday is
When I’m floundering in the dark

But how can I give my heart and soul and be able to believe
that everything is more or less easy when it’s impossible
I wanted to be stronger than all your uncertainties
but I can’t make do
with a love made of plastic if that’s all you can give me

You are the fire that’s difficult to light
There’s no excuse but yet you know how to confuse me 

Remember you’re the one that’s not there when I cry
You’re the one that doesn’t know when my birthday is
When I’m floundering in the dark

But how can I give my heart and soul and be able to believe
that everything is more or less easy when it’s impossible
I wanted to be stronger than all your uncertainties
but I can’t make do
with a love made of plastic if that’s all you can give me

I wanted to be stronger than all your uncertainties
but I can’t make do
with a love made of plastic if that’s all you can give me

but I can’t make do
with a love made of plastic if that’s all you can give me

era saputu tano mancia'minna
pirchì so matri santina a marchisa
ci a resi 'ppi 10 anni

cosa c'è di più bello e profondo dell'amore di una madre

un vire l'ura ca agghiorna
sta casa è china di scuru e di raggia
stasira forsi ca torna
doppu tri gghiorna di caccia e di corna

putissi 'n ghiornu vulari
senza catini e cammisi di stirari

ma cunzamuci a tavula a tano
'nto salottu pirchì 'nta cucina c'è cauru
evitiamo domande ca è stanco
s'ha taliari u granpremiu e ci aggva u'ddivanu

matri maria da spiranza
'cchiautru aiu a 'ffari 'ppa aviri la grazia
'na vita di penitenza
comun'na fiaba liggiuta a riversa

putissi 'nprincipe arrivari
e 'ccu 'na carizza mi facissi arrisbigghiari

ma cunzamuci a tavula a tano
ca 'ha accattatu tri lepri e na quagghia al mercato
entusiasti abbatemuci i manu
'ppi sparari ci volunu forza e 'ccuraggiu

e cunzamuci a tavula a tano
'nto salottu pirchì 'nta cucina c'è cauru
entusiasti abbattemuci i manu
'ppi sparari ci vonnu pinnenti d'acciaiu

e cunzamu sta tavula a tano
'nto salottu pirchì 'nta cucina c'è cauru
evitiamo domande ca è stancu
di sparari minchiati e di farisi lavri i mutanni

tano è stanco...

One look from him and i fell under his spell,
His manicured fingers moved like a magician's.
His lips in proportion to the pearly-white,
Dazzling perfection of his irresistible smile.

With great expertise, never wasting a word,
I gave in to his charm and persuasion as he
Sweet talked me.

We started to meet and date fast and furiously,
In all the unusual places we could think of.
My artful young man had endless resources,
Pulling the strings that seduced me.

No hesitation when he asked me sincerely:
"come on let's get married". He was a master of self-assured ease.

Wedding day memories come back  to remind me,
A veil of white lace trailing softly behind me,
Something borrowed 'n' blue, something old 'n' new, 
As i waited devoutly for the groom to appear. 

Crammed in their pews the guests growing restless
Restraining their pent-up hysteria.
The minutes ticked by with relentless precision,
So where on earth was my husband to be ?

No hesitation when he asked me sincerely:
"come on let's get married". He was a master of self-assured ease.

Wedding day memories come back to remind me,
A veil of white lace trailing softly behind me,
No nervous bridegroom in manly composure,
Only the priest in conspicuous embarassment.

Wedding day memories come back  to remind me,
A veil of white lace trailing softly behind me,
No nervous bridegroom in manly composure,
Only the priest in conspicuous embarassment.

Wedding day memories come back  to remind me,
A veil of white lace flowing softly behind me,
No wedding march to walk down the
Aisle with, just the dull dirge of 
My inconsolable grieving.

Days fly by in confusion and restlessness
Like flies at the dining table
Tomorrow is a holiday and the whole village
Is excited about the procession
Be generous, madam,
And in exchange the martyr saints will rejoice.

The weather forecasts say
Spring will be late this year
This Atlantic weather front
Is a disaster for my roses

Be patient, madam,
Plants don’t rush or meet deadlines
It’s only a matter of a few weeks
Why worry that they won’t bloom

Through the tangled mess of endless hours of uncertain waiting  
Suddenly a flock of swallows sweeps and swoops across the sky
If I close my eyes I get a hot, chafing feeling 
The sun in May has never been so close

In good times or bad 
I’ll fight at your side, my captain
Be patient, madam,
Plants don’t rush or meet deadlines
It’s only a matter of a few weeks
Why worry that they won’t bloom

Through the tangled mess of endless hours of uncertain waiting  
Suddenly a flock of swallows sweeps and swoops across the sky
If I close my eyes I can feel the thrill of high altitude
And a strong lack of oxygen 
But I have already caught my breath
And can now breathe again effortlessly
The weather forecasts say 
Spring will be late this year

I look out of my window all the time and see people in the street
Beautiful, ugly, cheerful, sulky, angry people
People showing off their riches, raising an eyebrow, tightening their lips
“Turi, I’d like something refreshing, like a sorbet or freshly squeezed lemonade”
He replies: “Giusi, when you called yourself Giuseppina you were happy just having the usual brioche with lemon ice”
“Turi, you’ve come a long way but now that you are a big business man you’ve got to learn how to talk with a bit of class”.

I’m always looking out of the window watching people with nothing to do smoking one cigarette after another, sitting sprawled out on benches in the square.  People meeting and saying “hi” with a glance. People avoiding one another, hugging and kissing each other. People being thrifty, making sacrifices but never giving in or next winter they won’t be able to make ends meet.
People owning next to nothing and doing almost everything to make sure the table is  well laid for people in power.

“What are you looking at? Don’t you have anything better to do?
“Go and get a job!” shouts a spiteful old man “you’re bringing bad luck standing behind the window like that”
I reply “I’m sorry, this is my home and I can stand where I like”

Sunday morning, from the church speakers Father Coppola’s voice shakes the walls of the houses and rattles people’s bones,
“You sinners, renounce the pleasures of the flesh. When the devil knocks wear a second pair of knickers”
Then, beside the church a big car stops.
Saro Branchia, known as the Lion King, gets out.
Father Coppola stammers and cuts his sermon short 
Because his majesty wants to receive holy communion,

“What are you looking at? Don’t you have anything better to do with your time?”
“Why don’t you go to the seaside!” shouts a mean old man “you’re as pale as a ghost”
I reply “Excuse me, but why have you decided to stand there and provoke me?”

I’m always looking out of my window and seeing the great civilisation we once were 
Where Turks, Jews and Christians would shake hands
And people used to think “diversity means richness”
Times of beauty and poetry, love and wisdom.
What we had yesterday might come back today
If we find good seeds to plant
In this land of fire and water
Today deep in my heart I feel
That things will change

“What are you looking at? Don’t you have anything better to do with your time?
“Go out dancing! Shake a leg and get a life!”
And I reply: “I’d love to. Can you recommend an eccentric dance?”

I’m looking at a photo of my mother
She was happy she must have been about three  
She was clutching  a doll close to her chest         
A most coveted gift.
It was her birthday party
In faded black and white .
 
I look at my mother in those days and I see 
The same smile on her face as mine.
And to think of all the times I felt she was distant 
And to think of all the times… 
I would have liked to talk to her about me at least ask her to explain 
Those long hostile moments of silence and indifference 
Invariably    
I would appear inflexible, beyond reach and proud
Deeply resolute fearing foolish rivalry  
 
I’m looking at a photo of my mother
She was happy she must have been about twenty 
Hair tied up in a silk scarf 
A vacant look upon her face.
A clear view of a radiant Catania 
In the sixties 
I scrutinize her closely and thoroughly and  find
The same look on her face as mine.
 
And to think of all the times I felt she was distant 
And to think of all the times… 
I would have liked to talk to her about me at least ask her to explain 
Those long hostile moments of silence and arbitrary indolence 
Invariably    
I would appear inflexible, beyond reach and proud
Deeply resolute fearing an innate rivalry. 
 
I would have liked to talk to her about me at least ask her to explain... 
I would have liked to talk to her about me at least ask her to explain...

Mary Chain was patiently waiting her turn to receive holy communion.
That Sunday Jesus Christ on the cross looked even more sorrowful than usual.
The old priest had been absolving his flock 
Of the usual sins for more than twenty years.
Jesus Christ on the cross looked somewhat disheartened 
By those small town vices
Above all the uncontrollable desire to resort
to buttered, baked and ready-to-eat gossip
What delicious morsels and petty titbits to tickle the appetites of the vulgar
With their big, asbestos-lined mouths, stinking like stagnant pools.

Jesus Christ on the cross
Seemed more bothered by those abominations than by the nails  

Mary Chain you know what it feels like
To have a lump in your throat.
Choking back tears of rage and bitterness
Because of wrongs you never committed.
And you’re still serving an unfair sentence 
In the gloomy circle of malicious gossip.
And you wonder whether your name 
was more an omen than a spiteful trick.

Mary Chain didn’t know how to react
When the priest refused to give her holy communion
And in her pain she smothered an unspoken amen 
along with her humiliation.
According to an ancient proverb 
in the long run all lies become truths

Jesus Christ smiled indulgently almost in disbelief.  
 
Mary Chain you know what it feels like
To have a lump in your throat.
Choking back tears of rage and bitterness
Because of wrongs you never committed.
And you’re still serving an unfair sentence 
In the gloomy circle of malicious gossip.
And you wonder whether your name 
was more an omen than a spiteful trick.

It was almost dawn when we caught sight of that ramshackle boat
Overflowing with people flailing their arms
A cargo of tragic hope
Of tightly packed, unlabeled lives
That night our seas would wash ashore  
The rest of that composite, lifeless crew 

Who will control the media madness 
Distinguished words laced with pain,
Come on everybody there’s a new reality show broadcast worldwide
What’s the point of the umpteenth visit
By magicians and politicians, by your majesty 
And mourners-for-rent crying, posing and despairing for three euros an hour.

And despite knowing it was a criminal act
The fishermen jointly decided to extend a hand
In defiance of the bitter consequences 
Following the voice of their own conscience.
That night our seas would wash ashore  
Maps, family photos, rags and a little white shoe.

Who will control this media madness 
Distinguished words laced with pain,
Whatever you do don’t miss this new sensational show
What’s the point of the umpteenth visit
Paid out of courtesy and formal solidarity 
Roll up roll up, ladies and gentlemen, come and see the circus of horrors.

Who will control the media madness 
Distinguished words laced with pain
The Carnival parade has in store a new float full of empty promises for us 

The thought suddenly strikes me
Wiping out all modesty and defence.
I had suffocated that stupid inclination 
for taking flights of fancy and
spending time heartrendingly and heroically waiting
And I’ll survive this lack of oxygen
Despite treacherous streams I shall reach
the bottom of the abyss amid the ancient splendours
Of a world submerged for thousands of years.
I stupidly feared the immense, merciless beauty,
The depth in your eyes.

This thought makes my awakening sweet
Shaking me out of my stupor, the usual sluggishness.
Lost fragrances come to life again amid enchanted mountains
Great expectations swept away by the fury of stormy oceans.
Surrounded by a miraculous atmosphere
Meanwhile Atlantis
Smiles and looks at us amicably.
In the depths of the abyss, ancient splendours 
Of a world submerged for thousands of years
I stupidly feared the immense, merciless beauty,
The depth in your eyes.

Maybe I won’t be able to give you the best      
many times you found my efforts useless     
Maybe I won’t be able to give you the best      
many times you found my gestures ridiculous   

as if having given up on myself                  
weren’t enough                      
as if all the power of my love weren’t enough....                         

and all I did was feel like a misfit so I changed everything about me        
because I wasn’t enough                          
and I have only just realized that you were ......frightened                           

maybe I won’t be able to give you the best           
but I added things up and discovered that I don’t have more to give         

and all I did was feel like a misfit       
and I changed everything about me       
because I wasn’t enough                          
and I have only just realized     
 

That Sunday morning a sorrowful breeze
Came blowing in from the sea
The thought of Odysseys to far-off places
For pleasure-seeking travellers

I will survive the violence of your words
In the South East, the margins of darkness yield to the sun
And I will wait for the evening dressed in diamonds
Would you like to come and see the stars?

What’s the point, tell me, of longing for summer
And then regretting  the coldness of winter
When the sky is clearer
With the taste of winter.  

That Sunday morning, without realizing it, I accepted 
an invitation to suffering
an eruption of tidal waves shook the horizon 
I had nothing but me and my cheerful little boat
I will survive the violence of your words
I will survive

What’s the point, tell me, of longing for summer
And then regretting the coldness of winter
Smells that cannot reawaken the senses
And restricted days that always pass too fast

What’s the point of stubbornly repressing a wish
Keeping it waiting at the door feigning absence
And once more being unable to say, that’s enough!

That Sunday morning, without realizing it I accepted 
An invitation to suffering.

Fortunately I still have the common sense           
to question myself                        
I’d gladly do without your handbooks              
on self-esteem                                          

Fortunately the agonizing procession of flowers from you ended several days ago
I’m still throwing up our last romantic meal together...    
sad, bored and dried out      
I would be your tainted Venus
sad, bored and dried out
I would be no use as prey   

you’ll see you’ll see in the end                      
you’ll get a sordid thank you, you will             
the appropriate smile just right for the occasion, you’ll see… 

Fortunately I always make the mistake of not taking myself too seriously   
and I can gladly do without                       
your practical sex and success … 
sad, bored and dried out                  
I would be your  tainted Venus
sad, bored and dried out                  
I would be your  tainted Venus I would be no use as prey… 

I can still smell your fuming words          
your words on me                                  
that’s the only thing                                    
you left me....                                             

sad, bored and dried out I would be your tainted Venus