When they killed the pig
When they killed the pig
When they killed the pig, / I ran upstairs crying / and played the guitar so as not to hear / those torn cries. / But when I became a little boy, / I would stand straight among the people / and I too, with the sleeves rolled up, / I was so happy to hold its foot and to support myself with my knees / over that pig that was dying / gripped by all those hands. // I would have broken its head with a stone / if someone would tell me / - God forbid - / that I was still small: / I who was crying first / and looking it bitter / that furious pack of people / thrown over the roaring pig / with the cries could be heard until the Milky Way.
Quando uccidevano il porco
Quando uccidevano il porco, / me ne scappavo di sopra piangendo / e suonavo la chitarra per non sentire / quelle grida lacerate. / Ma quando poi mi feci grandicello, / mi ci piantavo dritto in mezzo alla gente / e pure io, con le maniche rimboccate, / ero tanto contento / di reggergli il piede e di puntellarmi con le ginocchia / sopra quel porco che moriva / attanagliato da tutte quelle mani. // Gli avrei rotto la testa con una pietra / se qualcuno mi diceva / – Dio non voglia – / che ero ancora piccolo: / io che prima piangevo / e lo guardavo amaro / quel branco furente di cristiani /gettati sopra il porco che strepitava / con le grida che arrivavano alla Via Lattea.
