MakingOne

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.