Quello che non... [English translation]

Do you see that high pressure in the sky

Do you feel a strange season?

But at night the fog tells you in one breath

That the God of winter has arrived.

Do you feel a plane taking far away?

Do you hear that sound of a piano

Of a pitchy Mozart who tries and tries again

But the sense of truth does not find?

Can you feel the reason of the wet courtyards

Of cars dying in the meadows

The pale line of old wounds

Of letters no longer sent?

Do you see the sound of fables turned off? Do you know we're nothing anymore?

We are not a plane nor an untuned piano

Season, courtyard or a meadow.

Do you know the smell of deserted roads

Leading to old discoveries

And to naphtha, frames, corroded chimneys

To mysterious suburbs

And to relentless rails for no where

To beds, cots, alcoves?

Do you know what color are the low clouds

And the seats of a former third class?

The anguish that gives an infinite plain?

You have envy of me and of life

Of an ordinary day, of a barren shore?

Do you know we're nothing anymore?

We are not a road nor melancholy

A train or a suburb

We're not discovery nor faded shore

We're neither a day nor life.

We are not the dust of a dark corner

Nor a stone cast into a glass

The snap of the sun in a field of wheat

We're not, we're not, we're not.

The sky get striped and that high pressure

Is a second-rate movie

It's the usual scream that says slowly

"We're not, we're not, we're not".