Dear friend, my letter comes to you from afar,
from the country where I am working,
where I’ve been ousted by an awful government
that didn’t provide to me the means to survive;
I crossed the frontier with a burden deep in my heart
and an overpowering desire to come back,
to come back to the country where I came to the world,
where I’ve left so many things to be changed.
And I was reminded of my past adventures,
many women, many men and children,
and the struggles I made for the job,
the smiles of my friends and neighbours;
And I was reminded of when, young and happy,
we used to go by the river to swim,
and Marino, the pensioner, spoke to us calmly,
helping us and teaching us to fish.
Dear friend, do you remember when I went to work
and I was already thinking to get married,
and Marisa was saving money to buy her trousseau,
and my mother helping her to prepare;
and instead of getting married among friends and relatives
I had to marry her the year after, by proxy,
because they closed the factory and took our job,
so they made our life very hard.
Then we joined and took to the streets to fight,
to push back the attack of the master;
policemen and celerini1, came from afar,
charged the women with their blackjack;
we repulsed their attacks with the popular force,
but, misled by corrupted delegates,
we get trapped by empty and false speeches
and by those who had been bribed.
And it occurs to me that the struggle against the master
is a struggle between love and egoism,
it’s a struggle between the wealthy man, who loves nothing but his money,
and the people who just want altruism;
and doesn’t matter what words you can make up,
if you look around, you’ll guess their scam:
with their mouth they say they want your good,
with their hands they give you fire and sword.
Dear friend, please greet the friends
and the community, who are all my people;
they are my true heart, that I really want to remember,
that I miss and that loved me truly;
the day will come when we’ll return,
and then we’ll be finally at our place,
we’ll cease to suffer, we won’t have to emigrate anymore
because of a guy who compels us at any cost.
And say hello to your mother, give a hug to your sister,
who knows, she must be grown up, a miss;
and I know, she must be beautiful as our women are,
they can live with a captivating strength;
but - did you ever watch them carefully? - they smile with their heart,
there isn’t any fear hidden in their look,
but where they are unique is at work,
they are with the men and strive at their side.
Many times I thought there is a sense in all that,
this love doesn’t fall down from heaven;
but, speaking about life, and thinking of my land,
I feel as if a veil has been lifted,
I feel I know, at last I feel I understand
in the life each thing has its own colour:
so the blue is in the sky, the green is in meadows
and red is the colour of love,
so the blue is in the sky, the green is in meadows
and red is the colour of love…
1. “Celerini” are the policemen belonging to the “squadra celere” (speedy squad), the Italian anti-riot unit, ill-famed for their brutality.