Bocca di rosa [English translation]

They called her Bocca di Rosa

she placed love, she placed love

they called her Bocca di Rosa

she placed love above everything.

As soon as she got off at the station

in the little village of Sant’Ilario

everybody realized at a one glance

that she wasn't a missionary.

There are those who make love out of boredom,

those who choose it as a profession.

Bocca di Rosa didn't do either,

she made it for passion.

But passion will often lead you

to satisfy your own desires

without checking if your infatuation

has a free heart or is already married.

And so it was that from one day to another

Bocca di Rosa was already carrying

The fatal fury of all the bitches

whose bone she had snatched.

But the old wives of a little town

don't certainly shine by their resourcefulness

their countermeasures, up to that point,

were limited to badmouthing.

It is known that people give good advice

feeling like Jesus at the temple,

it is know that people give good advice

If the cannot give any more bad example.

Thus an old lady, a spinster,

never had children and had no more passion,

with joy she hastily stuck her nose

giving everyone the right advice.

So addressing the cuckqueans

she called them out, cunningly speaking

"Theft of love will be punished,

Such is the order of things"

The women went to the sheriff,

and told him without paraphrasing

"That slut has too many costumers,

Even more than the grocery store".

Four policemen arrived

with their plumes, with their feathers

and then four guards arrived

with their feathers and with their weapons.

Quite very often cops and policemen

are fairly useless at their own duty,

But not when they're wearing their full dress uniforms

and they escorted her to take the first train.

Everybody was at the station,

from the sheriff to the sacristan

everybody was at the station

with red eyes and hat in hand.

To send off the one that for a while,

without pretension, without pretension,

to send off the one that for a while,

had brought the love to their village.

There was a yellow sign

with black writing

it said "Farewell Bocca di Rosa

my spring leaves with you".

But news that are quite original

have no need for a newspaper

Like an arrow flying out of a bow

It quickly flies from one mouth to another.

And at the following station

there were more people than when she left

one blowing a kiss, one throwing a flower

One booking for couple of hours.

Even the priest who doesn't despise,

between a beggar and the last rites

the evanescent goodness of beauty,

wants her by his side at the procession.

And with the Virgin on the first row

and Bocca di Rosa not very far

He takes strolling around the village

the love that's sacred and the love that's profane