E semm partii [English translation]

Like children held in her lap

by this ship that doesn’t know how to leave,

we embroider the sea with our pointed gaze,

our biggest anchor is right here.

Like children taken for a stroll

by the waves in pieces, which know everything,

towards a horizon with the sun around its neck,

always rocking but never falling.

Yesterday’s wave carries today’s wave,

the eye of an old man was the eye of a boy.

And we have left, and we have left,

for this America we dreamed of hastily;

double-sided like a coin,1

and a suitcase with nothing in it.

And we have left, and we have left,

like pieces of glass of a glass in pieces;

a new life where the sea ends,

while the old one is tapping you on the shoulder.

And we have left.

Like sons waved at

by these people you can no longer see;

white handkerchiefs that can’t fly,

they won’t follow us and will remain there.

Like sons kicked in the ass

by a fear wearing new shoes.

And the eyes burn with no noise:

it’s not just the wind, it’s not just the salt.

Yesterday’s wave carries today’s wave,

the eye of an old man was the eye of a boy.

And we have left, and we have left,

for this America that eats everybody.

A skyscraper or a revolver,

if fortune will kiss me.

And we have left, and we have left,

like spit against a storm;

if I can make it, I’ll change my life,

if I don’t sink, that’s quite something.

And we have left.

Like sons picked up right away

by this statue hiding the sky;

she has a tough face and is frowning at us,

will Liberty find us pleasant?

And we have left, and we have left,

for this America we dreamed of hastily;

double-sided like a coin,

and a suitcase with nothing in it.

And we have left, and we have left,

like pieces of glass of a glass in pieces;

a new life where the sea ends,

while the old one is tapping you on the shoulder.

And we have left, and we have left,

for this America that eats everybody.

A skyscraper or a revolver,

if fortune will kiss me.

And we have left, and we have left,

like spit against a storm;

if I can make it, I’ll change my life,

if I don’t sink, that’s quite something.

And we have left, and we have left, («Mom, give me a hundred lire)

for this America that eats everybody. (for I want to go to America»)

A skyscraper or a revolver, (‹I will give you a hundred lire)

if fortune will kiss me. (but no America, no, no›)

And we have left, and we have left, («Mom, give me a hundred lire)

like spit against a storm; (for I want to go to America»)

if I can make it, I’ll change my life, (‹I will give you a hundred lire)

if I don’t sink, that’s quite something. (but no America, no, no›)2

And we have left, and we have left,

for this America we dreamed of hastily;

double-sided like a coin,

and a suitcase with nothing in it.

And we have left, and we have left,

like pieces of glass of a glass in pieces;

a new life where the sea ends,

while the old one is tapping you on the shoulder.

1. a doppia faccia {with double face} = double-sided.2. Reference to the traditional song Mamma mia, dammi cento lire {Mom, give me a hundred lire}.

lire was the Italian currency up to 2002.