Aveva un bavero [English translation]

In cold and dark nights,

around the fireplace,

my grandpa used to tell

so many stories, so many tales.

The most beautiful I remember

is the story of a romance,

of a passionate love

that didn’t end well.

And it moved

the heart of a poet so much

that he put to music

the story of those times, this way:

He had a lapel the color of saffron,

and a tailcoat the color of cyclamen;

he used to came from Lodi to Milan on foot1

to meet with the beautiful Gigogin.2

Strolling along the way,

he used to sing to her «My sweet love,

Gigogin, my hope,

you’re stealing my heart with your kisses.»

And the story goes on: he was sent to Piedmont as a soldier, and every morning he used to send her a flower on the water of a millrace that flowed through Milan. Until one day…

[But with others from his town,

he was sent to Piedmont;

and to be next to her

with his loving heart,

every day, he used to place a flower

on the water of a millrace

that flowed through Milan,

so that she may pick it up.

She was waiting for him anxiously,

sighing ‟Come back, my love”,

and she used to hold it tight to her heart

while wetting it with her weeping.]

When he got to know that his return

was finally approaching,

he laid down an orange blossom

on the water, one fine morning.

Seeing and guessing

the reason for that flower,

she leaned out to pick it up,

so much that she fell down.

On the water, with that blossom,

she went towards the sea;

and he, out of grief,

didn’t come back from Piedmont.

He had a lapel the color of saffron,

and a tailcoat the color of cyclamen;

he used to come from Lodi to Milan on foot

to meet with the beautiful Gigogin.

She waited for him on the way,

among the stars, holding a blossom,

and in a dream of poetry

they found themselves united once again.

Narrow is the leaf, wide is the way; tell yours, for we have told… a lapel the color of saffron.3

The story of a romance.

1. Lodi and Milan are cities in Lombardy, northern Italy, about 10km apart.2. Reference to the traditional song La bella Gigogin {the beautiful Gigogin}.3. Stretta la foglia, larga la via: voi dite la vostra ché io ho detto la mia. {Narrow [is] the leaf, wide [is] the way: tell yours, for I have told mine.} is a common conclusion for stories, tales, and nursery rhymes. Originally, it was Stretta la soglia […] {Narrow [is] the doorway}: it means that in telling a story, the hard part is to begin; while in carrying on, things get easier. This way, now that his story is over, the storyteller is pushing the listeners to tell their own stories without fearing that they might not be able to tell them properly.