Proposta [Mettete dei fiori nei vostri cannoni] [English translation]

1

‟Put flowers into your cannons”

It was written on a sign on the back of boys;

without knowing each other, coming from different cities,

socially different, going around the streets of their city,

they were singing their proposal.

Now it seems that there will be an inquiry.

‹You, what’s your name? You are very young…

What’s your proposal?›

«My name is Brambilla and I’m a worker,

I cast iron for a little money2

and I never have

money enough for a dance with her.

I like my job, but I’m not happy.

I’m not complaining about money,

but I was sure this youth

would have given me more.»

Put flowers in your cannons,

because we don’t want ill molecules in the air,

rather, we want music notes

forming the chords of a ballad of peace, of peace, of peace.

‹You’re very young too, how old are you?

And what aren’t you happy about?›

«I’m almost 20 and I sell newspapers,

going around blocks, among poor people

who live like me, who dream like me.

I’m a painter who doesn’t sell paintings,

I just paint the love I see.

And I only ask society for my liberty.»

Put flowers in your cannons,

because we don’t want ill molecules in the air,

rather, we want music notes

forming the chords of a ballad of peace, of peace, of peace.

‹And you, who are you?

It doesn’t look like you have anything to complain about…›

«My family are well-to-do people.3

I don’t speak with mum, nor do I with the old man;

he wears my shirts,

and then he disapproves of me if I dress like that.

I earn my living away from home,

because I’ve given up a troublefree position.

Now you’re telling me that

I have obligations that others have taken on on my behalf.»

Put flowers in your cannons,

because they don’t want ill molecules in the air,

rather, we want music notes

forming the chords of a ballad of peace, of peace, of peace.

Let’s put flowers in our cannons,

because we don’t want ill molecules in the air,

rather, we want music notes

forming the chords of a ballad of peace, of peace, of peace.

1. This is a 1967 song, with a straightforward hippie and pacifist message.

This famous photo agrees perfectly with the meaning of the song, and it’s from the same year (the song was published before the picture was taken).2. Brambilla /bramˈbilːa/ is the most common surname in Milan (well, it was, before the Chinese Hu took the lead); Milan is the economic capital of Italy.

In Milan’s dialect, which abhors double consonants, it’s pronounced /bramˈbila/.3. He has (one of the many variants of) R moscia {limp R}, which is technically rotacismo {rhotacism}. This kind of erre moscia ([r] is substituted with [ʋ]) is a distinctive tract of aristocrats; at least of the stereotypical Italian aristocrat, who once used to speak in an artificial voice, a bit French-like, when French was the main language of culture.