Foreword
This song took me ages to translate due to the lyrics being laced with metaphors and sensitive content. To be entirely honest, I had to get some help to make it presentable, as some of my translations were a little rough around the edges. One thing to notice is that the grammatically correct way to say "it wasnt you" in Italian is "non siete stati voi" because the conjugation is you plural. Caparezza spells "Stato" with a capital S. It would therefore seem that the lyrics are directed towards the italian state, since the context of the song closely matches and describes the mess/scandals within the current Italian political system. If you're interested in Italy, this might help you too see what's happening from the perspective of an Italian national.
This song took me ages to translate due to the lyrics being laced with metaphors and sensitive content. To be entirely honest, I had to get some help to make it presentable, as some of my translations were a little rough around the edges. One thing to notice is that the grammatically correct way to say "it wasnt you" in Italian is "non siete stati voi" because the conjugation is you plural. Caparezza spells "Stato" with a capital S. It would therefore seem that the lyrics are directed towards the italian state, since the context of the song closely matches and describes the mess/scandals within the current Italian political system. If you're interested in Italy, this might help you too see what's happening from the perspective of an Italian national.
English translation
It
wasn't you (The state), that talked about freedom
like
one talks about a stunt in
the
brothels one night
It
wasn't you that
dragged
the nation into the darkness
but
you have fun acting like famous philosophers/scientists (of the enlightenment).
It
wasn't you.... You are not men of dignity
maybe
(you think you are) because you're surrounded by a
bunch
of idiots.
It
wasn't you who waved the tricolour around
and
that's enough to make yourself feel patriotic.
It
wasn't you, nor your parliament
of
idolaters that would do anything to receive
an audience.
It
wasn't you that
bought
votes with propaganda
but
wouldn't ever pay for the consequences of them.
It
wasn't you that squeezed the rosaries of surveys
between
your fingers, hoping
that
they will reassure you.
It
wasn't you that resolved the drama of the unemployed
by going
into gatherings being a jester-charlatan.
It
wasn't you, it wasn't you
It
wasn't you
(Men)
Executioners
in
uniform who beat to death the detainees.
It wasn't you with the
(anfibi-type of shoe) taken a kick to
the face
like a sack of rubbish.
It
wasn't you that sent your sons
to
the front-lines, like a carcass for
a
hyena to strip it of its flesh.
It
wasn't you that laid the flag over our coffins
to
put to sleep every sense of fault.
It
wasn't you, you damned,
unprepared
reactionaries, always on the lookout
for
an enemy to fight with.
It
wasn't you that would have burned like witches
the
immigrants, except to worship that which is
in
the cave. (Reference to Aladdin's cave?)
It
wasn't you with
the
chest of the commander (Mussolini) on the desks
the
constitution beneath your feet.
It
wasn't you that would deserve being
uprooted
like weeds
from
your backsides
It
wasn't you, It wasn't you
It
wasn't you that
made
a toast with the blood of those who attempted
to
shed light on your shady lives.
It
wasn't you who would like to give a voice
to newspapers
of a party, silent as a tomb
It
wasn't you who made laws, tailored
like
a pair of pants (underwear)
dependant on the genitals
It
wasn't you that treated
those
who criticise you, like a tramp (disney dog)
to
whom you cut his vocal chords.
It
wasn't you, servants, who hired
royal
costumes with undeserved money
you
are brethren of a lodge that rests
on the
value of the privileged like you,
you
who call the mafia heroes and
the
corrupt pious.
And
every one of you, involved in every sort of
crime, fixated on the magistrate and then swears to
god
"It
wasn't me."
Testo della canzone in Italiano
Testo della canzone in Italiano
Non siete Stato voi che parlate di libertà
come si parla di una notte brava dentro
i lupanari.
Non siete Stato voi che
trascinate la nazione dentro il buio
ma vi divertite a fare i luminari.
Non siete Stato voi che siete uomini di
polso forse perché circondati da una
manica di idioti.
Non siete Stato voi che sventolate il tricolore come in
curva e tanto basta per sentirvi patrioti.
Non siete Stato voi né il vostro parlamento
di idolatri pronti a tutto per ricevere
un'udienza.
Non siete Stato voi che
comprate voti con la propaganda
ma non ne pagate mai la conseguenza.
Non siete Stato voi che stringete tra le
dita il rosario dei sondaggi sperando
che vi rinfranchi.
Non siete Stato voi che risolvete il dramma dei disoccupati
andando nei salotti a fare i saltimbanchi.
Non siete Stato voi. Non siete Stato, voi.
Non siete Stato voi,
Uomini boia con la
divisa che ammazzate di percosse i detenuti.
Non siete Stato voi con gli
anfibi sulle facce disarmate
prese a calci come sacchi di rifiuti.
Non siete Stato voi che mandate i vostri
figli al fronte come una carogna da
una iena che la spolpa.
Non siete Stato voi che rimboccate le bandiere sulle
bare per addormentare ogni senso di
colpa.
Non siete Stato voi maledetti
forcaioli impreparati, sempre in cerca
di un nemico per la lotta.
Non siete Stato voi che brucereste come streghe
gli immigrati salvo venerare quello
nella grotta.
Non siete Stato voi col
busto del duce sugli scrittoi e la
costituzione sotto i piedi.
Non siete Stato voi che meritereste d'essere
estirpati come la malerba
dalle vostre sedi.
Non siete Stato voi. Non siete Stato, voi.
Non siete Stato voi che
brindate con il sangue di chi tenta
di far luce sulle vostre vite oscure.
Non siete Stato voi che vorreste dare voce
a quotidiani di partito muti come sepolture.
Non siete Stato voi che fate leggi su misura
come un paio di mutande
a seconda dei genitali.
Non siete Stato voi che trattate
chi vi critica come un randagio a cui
tagliare le corde vocali.
Non siete Stato voi, servi, che avete noleggiato
costumi da sovrani con soldi immeritati,
siete voi confratelli di una loggia che poggia
sul valore dei privilegiati
come voi che i mafiosi li chiamate eroi e che
il corrotto lo chiamate pio
e ciascuno di voi, implicato in ogni sorta di
reato fissa il magistrato e poi giura su Dio:
"Non sono stato io".
