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Piotta — Comunque vada sarà un successo (1998-99)
La Valigia, featuring Turi (original Italian)
Translation by Leonardo Murata-MastragostinoPIOTTA
CHORUS
From the hottest land, lost in the fog
Up to where the sea turns back into sand
From Calabria, going to New York
Pointing with courage, on his own hope
To get on a ship of stories told in low frequency,
It's the high tide, ready for departure
Decay, in suitcases like cardboard,
Hope, in a suitcase full of emotions
From the countryside to the city the background changes,
From the north to the south, anywhere, on top of the world,
Stories that I break, others that I compose,
Wandering far, but trying to keep my origins
Golden days in Rome, from Puglia to Milan,
A life worth the name we give it,
I point far, hoping for a good morning,
Love still waits, now I swear I'll return.
In my eyes I have 1000 dreams of a great city
from city to city
In my eyes I have 1000 dreams of a great city
from city to city Turi
He got on the train, naïve,
Few bucks in his pocket, lots of dreams in his head
Who knows where he's going, beginning an adventure
Full of fear, begins and never ends
Beyond the window the sun dies, anguish is born,
A new country, for a confused kid
Roads now divided, the present not the past,
He doesn't want to but he forgets, reality's a bitch, life's greedy
He doesn't remember, takes your choice literally,
The appointment, with the change he doesn't quit,
He doesn't find peace, the man with his suitcases
A strange accent, between a thousand strange accents,
A man with a story, strong values between his hands
From Italy to Germany, New York
France, if he washes dishes maybe eats
For now no tips, there's no color, only a grey plot
Meanwhile dust grows, grows over the suitcase. CHORUS PIOTTA
From Italy to Australia, up to Canada,
Those who find success, won't come back
Champions of humility, between fame and dignity
Someone who's sailed away, won't even arrive
But. . .
He who runs away because he's in a minority, who's starving,
There's he who left and returned, hasn't changed
But has a thousand stories, strange in his head,
Entertaining his compatriots, the day of the party
Stays, a sense of defeat wherever he goes
You grew up, on a different road
Different run, different course but what changes
From Rwanda to Uganda, Nigeria or Zambia? CHORUS TURI
Now he lives, even without the sun
But he's going pretty well, now someone else asks him something
He had nothing, now he has;
You had everything, and everything you lost, cunning paesano,
Answering clients, getting tips of 20,
Dollars or marks count them, count the cash
Affairs, personal stories in 2000
Remember this guy, remember his TRAFILA,
A sequel, that is real
Relatives scattered all over the world, who knows what sky they're under
Far, strictly business paesani,
With the suitcase in hand, but full of presents. CHORUS
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