My Journey to Zion

Italia d'oro translation

My Translation

If you are here just for my translation, I'm putting it first. After that is the original matched with a (mostly) literal translation and with my singable translation.

I'm sure I'll have to tweak (or rewrite) the poem when I set the music, but I'm pretty happy with this draft.

America the Favored

They tell the stories of all of their victories,
Finally the judges respect the true past,
Justice is now with the rich and the righteous and
Kicks to the curb humanity's ass.

Please tell me now if All Lives really Matter,
Murder is criminal, worthy of death,
Why the most powerful interests give praise
To all the murders protecting their cash?

Billionaires whisper the new rules like thunder,
The voices of fairness and liberty still,
While the books of the wolves down on Wall Street are clean
Of the blood of the peasants who pay all the bills.

Chorus
America the favored, fruit of all our labors, crowned above our neighbors,
Why are so many poor?
America the cold, old glory 'round your shoulders, feed us your leftovers
Swept up off the floor,
Eat up what you wish while you still choose the dish.
You never pay the bill. No!

Everything's lost in the glare of the rockets
Hiding the blows that keep falling at home
Over the streets of the weak and forgotten.
War machines never will grind themselves down.

Talking heads parrot the thoughts and the prayers,
Tears of our leaders who cry for the poor,
While greasing the door between Wall Street and Washington,
Claiming their freedom to win with our dough.

I hope to stay on the side of humanity,
Casting bright light on the billionaires' lies,
Not hiding in ignorant, moderate lives.
I'm hoping we'll change the ones who decide.

America the favored, fruit of all our labors, crowned above our neighbors
Why are so many poor?
America the cold, old glory 'round your shoulders, feed us your leftovers
Swept up off the floor,
Eat up what you wish while you still choose the dish.
You never have to pay. Never!

Oh, say can you see does the banner yet wave
O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave.
Oh, say can you see does the banner yet wave
O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave.

Italy of Gold

The original Italian is standard font. (by Pierangelo Bertoli)
The literal-ish translation is italicized
The singable translation is bold

I'm sure I'll have to tweak (or rewrite) the poem when I set the music, but I'm pretty happy with this draft.

Verse 1
Racconteranno che adesso è più facile
They'll tell you that now it's easier than ever
They tell the stories of all of their victories
che la giustizia si rafforzerà
To see justice is done,
Finally the judges respect the true past
che la ragione è servire il più forte
That reason serves the strong
Justice is now with the rich and the righteous
e un calcio in culo all'umanità
and kicks humanity's ass.
And kicks to the curb humanity's ass.

Verse 2
Ditemi ora se tutto è mutevole
Tell me now, if everything can change,
Please tell me now if All Lives really Matter,
se il criminale fu chi assassinò
If the criminal was the murderer,
Murder is criminal, worthy of death,
poi l'interesse così prepotente
Then why do the powerful interests
Why the most powerful interest give praise
che conta solo chi più sterminò
only praise the one who killed the most?
To all the murders protecting their cash?

Verse 3
Romba il potere che detta le regole
The rule making powers thunder
Billionaires whisper the new rules like thunder,
cade la voce della libertà
The voice of freedom falls
The voices of fairness and liberty still,
mentre sui conti dei lupi economici
While the accounts of the economic wolves
While the books of the wolves down on Wall Street are clean
non resta il sangue di chi pagherà
Are clean of the blood of the people who will pay.
Of the blood of the peasants who pay all the bills.

Chorus
Italia d'oro frutto del lavoro cinta dall'alloro
Italy the golden, fruit of the laborers crowned with laurels,
America the favored, fruit of all our labors, crowned above our neighbors,
trovati una scusa tu se lo puoi
Excuse it if you can.
Why are so many poor?
Italia nera sotto la bandiera vecchia vivandiera
Italy the black, under the old flag, Barkeeper
America the cold, old glory 'round your shoulders, feed us your leftovers
te ne sbatti di noi
that doesn't give a shit about us,
swept up off the floor,
mangiati quel che vuoi fin quando lo potrai
Eat up while you can,
Eat up all that you wish while you still choose the dish,
tanto non paghi mai, mai!
You never have to pay the bill. Never.
You never pay the bill. No!

Verse 4
Tutto si perde in un suono di missili
Everything gets lost in the sound of missiles
Everything's lost in the glare of the rockets
mentre altri spari risuonano già
While other blows resound already
Hiding the blows that keep falling at home
sopra alle strade viaggiate dai deboli
Over the streets traveled by the weak,
Over the streets of the weak and forgotten.
la nostra guerra non si spegnerà
Our war will never put itself out.
War machines never will grind themselves down.

Verse 5
E torneranno a parlarci di lacrime
And they'll come back and tell us, crying,
Talking heads parrot the thoughts and the prayers,
dei risultati della povertà
About the sadness of poverty,
Tears of our leaders who cry for the poor,
delle tangenti e dei boss tutti liberi
About the bribes and crime bosses all freed
While greasing the door between Wall Street and Washington,
di un'altra bomba scoppiata in città
By another bomb in the city.
Claiming their freedom to win with our dough.

Verse 6
Spero soltanto di stare tra gli uomini
I only hope to remain among men,
I only hope to stay on the side of humanity,
che l'ignoranza non la spunterà
That ignorance won't dull us,
Casting bright light on the billionaires' lies,
che smetteremo di essere complici
That we won't be accomplices,
Not hiding in ignorant, moderate lives.
che cambieremo chi deciderà
That we will change who decides.
I'm hoping we'll change the ones who decide.

Repeat Chorus
Italia d'oro frutto del lavoro cinta dall'alloro
trovati una scusa tu se lo puoi
Italia nera sotto la bandiera vecchia vivandiera
te ne sbatti di noi
mangiati quel che vuoi fin quando lo potrai
tanto non paghi mai, mai.

(National Anthem)
Fratelli d'Italia, l'Italia s'è desta
dell'elmo di Scipio s'è cinta la testa.
Fratelli l'Italia l'Italia s'è desta
dell'elmo di Scipio s'è cinta la testa.

Brothers of Italy, Italy is armed
With the helm of Scipio strapped on its head.
Brothers of Italy, Italy is armed
With the helm of Scipio strapped on its head.

Oh, say can you see does the banner yet wave
O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave.
Oh, say can you see does the banner yet wave
O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave.