Vucciria Lyrics En

Vucciria

 

Scappavamu ri nichi e nichi

“Strata liscia, pista vascia!”

Iccati ddà nei viculicchi

A pieri in tierra, in tiesta ‘a guerra.

Me’ matri avieva ‘i sdillinchi, ch’i tiritanchi,

Mentri ju spicava ch’i manu nei cianchi

Assicutatu ‘i tutti comu ‘u carru r’i santi.

“Sangu ru sagnu r’i me’ vini

si t’annagghiu t’i rugnu ne’i rini!”

Me’ matri nun lu sapi ca mi scassu ri forst

E poi satariu attipu grillu

Una sardella

In capu a’ sella

In capu ‘nu quintale ‘i gel

Arrivu isannu in mienzu o’ burdiellu

Ma me’ matri chi voli capiri, si nun mi viri,

Ju cercu l’amuri in mienzu ‘o Garraffaello.

Ciesca ciesca, ‘a chiazza

è un armalu chinu chinu ri tieste,

Chinu ri vrazza

A’ punt’a cantuniera incocciu quattru amici mia

Mi finisci ‘a cunfusioni er accumincia ‘a Vuccirìa

 

Ccà nun c’è nuddu ca nni rici niente

Nun c’è nuddu ca nni cunta favole

‘A matina abbannìu

‘A menz’jornu abbannìu

Tutta ‘a sira abbannìu

Arriva ‘a notti e fazzu vuccirìa

 

‘Atti mmriachi runn’egghiè

A unu a unu càrinu attipu niespuli

Unu lientu lientu pi lanzari s’arrassa

E viu ‘stu ciuri biancu, una cavadda ri razza,

Troppu delicata, troppu assistimata

Sulu sulu ca mi rici “cionnami” c’una taliata

Smuntu r’u muturi

N’a me’ tiesta attacca ‘u film e ju sugnu l’atturi

Anzi ju e idda nuri

Chini ri sururi

Nni schiacciamu i punti nivuri doppu l’amuri

Mi pigghiu ri curaggiu e ci ricu: “chi fa,

N’ammuttunamu i birra fino a doppuruma’?”

 

Nun mi nni avieva addunato

A lato ‘i l’amuri miu

C’è ‘u so’ zito, acciuratu,

Cu’ un pezzu ri cutieddu ca parinu dui,

Unu in capu all’avutru, simpatico,

Mi quartìu e ni viru n’avutru, poi n’avutru, poi n’avutru…

 

Si mi scusassi e m’a svignassi,

Ma chi pienzi ca ‘un m’a scapuliassi?

Ma ormai addivintavu n’armale

E l’antitetanica m’a fici a natale

P’un muzzicuni ri cane,

E ‘u culu ormai ‘un mi fa cchiù male

Trovu una vuci e ‘a jeccu supr’a Vuccirìa

“Ora viriemu cu è ca s’arrifardia!”

 

Ccà nun c’è nuddu ca nni rici niente

Nun c’è nuddu ca nni cunta favole

‘A matina ju abbannìu

‘A menz’jornu abbannìu

Tutta ‘a vita abbannìu

Arriva ‘a notti e fazzu vuccirìa

 

“Cu ‘i vagnò ‘i balati r’a vuccirìa?”

Sunnu quattru contr’a unu

Iccati all’anciluni versu ‘i mia

‘A genti s’allasca a taliare,

‘A chiazza è un giru ri nasca, è ‘n altare

E nui cinqu’ ddà nmienzu ‘o tagghiere

Haju un aumientu di freve

Ogni vota ca unu avanza un piere

S’avvicinanu ma nun mi spostu n’arriere

Mi pari tutta una manu ca strinci supra ‘u pusiere

 

Cu fu ca vagnò ‘i balati r’a vuccirìa?

S’u vegnu a sapisciu m’allisciu e poi m’u vasu tuttu

Ju a vu’ avutri vi futtu

Cu ‘sti balate lippuse

Vi fazzu cariri senza bisognu ca v’ammuttu

Infatti (sentiti chista, eranu quattru no?):

‘U primo sciddicò e ‘u sicunnu ci cariu in capu

‘U terzu li azziccò e sbattìu ‘a tiesta supra ‘na balata

‘U quartu si vutò e si firriò

Si intisi minacciato e s’a scapputtò

 

Comu fu, comu non fu

In menzu a tutt’a genti arristamu sulu

Ju e l’amuri miu, mischina, traumatizzata p’u riestu r’a vita

Si idd’a sienti parrari, nun havi cchiù parole

Ci prova siempre ma ormai s’a fira sulu a diri:

“Stump staz stupurutanz!”

Vuccirìa[1]

 

We used to run away already as kids

“All clear, green light!”

Hanging around down there, in the alleys

Barefeet on the ground, war in our heads

My mother fainting and quivering

While I shot up with my hands on hips

Everybody chasing me like a Saint’s float.

“Blood of my vein’s blood,

If I catch you, I’ll break your back!”

My mother doesn’t know that I get drunk on Forst Beer [2]

And then I hop like a cricket,

a sardine,

on my saddle

Tons of gel on my head,

I turn up rearing in the crowd

My mother wouldn’t understand, she can’t see me here

Looking for love in the middle of Garraffaello Square

Hunt! Hunt! The the square is an animal,

with hundreds of heads,

hudreds of arms

At the street corner I bump into a couple of pals

My confusion ends and the Vuccirìa [3] begins

 

Nobody here ever says anything

Nobody ever telling tales

In the morning I yell,

at noon I yell,

in the evening I yell

Night comes and I do Vuccirìa [4]

 

Drunken cats everywhere

One by one they fall like loquats

One of them slowly moves away to barf

And I see a white flower, a broodmare

So delicate, so neat

she says “scratch me” only with her eyes

I get off the scooter

and in my head I start a film and I’m the actor,

Actually, she and I naked,

soaked in sweat,

we squeeze blackheads after making love

I take courage and say “Well,

shall we get stuffed on beer until the day after tomorrow?”

 

I didn’t realize

that next to my love

there was her man,

A knife in his hand so long I thought they were two,

one on top of the other, how cute!,

I take a peek and I see another one, and another one, and another one.

 

If I apologized and beat it

wouldn’t I get away with it?

But now I’m pissed

and I got my tetanus vaccine at Christmas

For a dog bite

and my ass doesn’t hurt anymore

I find a voice and I throw it upon the Vuccirìa

“Now let’s see who’s pulling back!”

 

Nobody here ever says anything

Nobody ever telling tales

In the morning I yell,

at noon I yell,

all my life I yell

Night comes and I do Vuccirìa

 

Who wet Vucciria’s balatas? [5]

It’s 4 against 1,

coming thuggishly towards me

The crowd spreads out to watch,

the square is the twist of a nostril, an altar

And the five of us are on the cutting board,

my temperature rises

at every step one of them takes,

They get nearer but I don’t step back,

as if a whole hand closed on the thumb

 

Who was it that wet Vuccirìa’s balatas?

If I find out, I’ll hug him and then kiss him

I’ll screw you all

Thanks to these slippery balatas,

I’ll knock you down without even pushing you

So, listen to this, there were 4 of them, no?

The first slipped and second fell on him,

the third stabbed them and banged his head on a balata,

the fourth tossed and turned,

he felt threatened and ran away!

 

Anyway

Among the crowd

only my love and I were left, poor her! Scared for the rest of her life

Listen to her, she has no more words

She always tries to speak, but now she can only say:

un staz stupurutaz..

[1] The Vuccirìa is one of the open-air markets installed by the Arabs when they occupied Palermo (831-1072 AD). The name in Sicilian means “great confusion”, but it derives from the same ethos that gives birth to its cousins: ​​”boucherie” in French, “butcher” in English and “boqueria” in Spanish, designating shops selling meat and fish. Although for centuries the market has sustained itself on groceries, during the last decade it has changed its style. Because of the competition with shopping malls that pop up around every corner, open air market activity begins deflating and shops are forced to stay open at night to survive: in a nutshell, Vuccirìa becomes synonym of alcohol at rock-bottom prices, loud music in the streets all night, no one producing receipts. To date, it’s the main site of the most dissolute nightlife in Palermo, where all the Palermitans atypically get together: undergraduates, 60-year-old hobos, 13-year-old working-class kids, artists and artsy-fartsies, or “tasci” (plural of “tascio”, from the English term “trash”: it’s the definition of a Palermitan boor, considered a social parasite, coarse and uncivil). The Vuccirìa song tells the story in first person of a “tascio”.

 

[2] There is a Forst beer factory in Palermo. Cause of no shipping costs, it’s one of the cheapest drinks, and is therefore the workers’ beer, the “Palermo Calcio” hooligans’ (who have made an actual religion around it). And of course it’s the “official” beer in Vuccirìa.

 

[3] As we already specified, Vuccirìa is the name of the market but also synonym of “great confusion”, from which the Sicilian play on words derives.

 

[4] See note 3.

 

[5]  From the Arab term “Balat”: Stone; we preferred not to translate this term that identifies the typical paving of great part of the historical center of Palermo, composed of large coarse cobblestones. The saying “the Vuccirìa balatas never dry” much used in Palermo, derives from an old legend predicting a fact that will never happen.