Can you speak Italian?

I've found this post searching for a Caparezza translation in English, because I've got a

project of translation of Caparezza lyrics... nothing important, only try to spread his

message in the World. Though I'm Italian, I'll try to translate it into English (even if

it's very bad :( I hope you'll understand something even if I can't speak English in a good

way).
I also want to answer to another question: Caparezza is from Foggia (Puglia), and so from

the South of Italy... in fact, one of his new songs is "Vieni a ballare in Puglia" -Come to

dance in Puglia-... I don't know why in this song there is yodeling, but it's not linked

with his origins. The title of the song is "Jodellavitanonhocapitouncazzo", which is an

ironc way of saying "Io della vita non ho capito un cazzo" (Jo is like rapper do ^_^), and

the translation is "I didn't understand a fucking thing of life", like he were dead (in

fact in the videoclip he dies). It's the last track of a CD that tells a story which ends

with the death of Caparezza, in a lunatic asylum (because he makes opposition in a society

of consumption, taking off his mask, saying always the truth... a similar theme taken from

an Italian writer of '800, Pirandello).
CapaRezza means "curly/frizzy head".

----------------translation--...


I don't do show, I make an exhibition of myself like my grandpa did in the day of my holy

Communion... so much out of his head that I've got relatives not happy to have my same

surname at all. Let me the arrogance to feel like dung: sometimes stale and some others

fluid; don't think about I'd like fame, I'm simply a person who suffers of my own

starvation; I've no sit at the table at all, I've got my bowl like a dog. I bark asking for

some dishes that I beg for. I could behave like a hot-tempered but I forget to do it. An

authentic medical doctor who is by my side and say me: "don't you realize that in this way

you will become schizophrenic?"; Shut up, doctor! You cost me alot! I'm worthless, and

don't call me artist because I talk shit, alright? I'm happy in the feces, instead I should

cry...

I'm sick but on the other hand I'm not paranoid, a kind of Mirko with carefulness, Licia,

Kiss Me [NdT: Mirko and Licia are the two characters of an Anime -apanise cartoon- of 80's,

broadcasted on Italian television with the title "Kiss me Licia". The original title of the

Manga is "Ai Shite Knight" -translation:"Love me Knight"- by Kaoru Tada; the original names

are Licia= Yaeko Mitamura and Mirko= Go]. I buck for Oscar (Academy Award), but that one

for aphorisms, I had to have a shower but they gave me a freesbee and I smell so much that

I'm disgusting, I drink sponging, I cheated death like a stowaway in a hull. My eyes are

opened wide like an owl, I'm building a future step by step that will see me like a ufo. Of

course that I'm bored, I swear it on every lock, I should play the trumpet for every time I

snort, if I jump on an idea of mine I'll be in apnoea in a diarrhoea sea, I think it's

funny. I'm alive but I don't live because I breathe, I feel alive only if I take a pen and

write down, when I was born I didn't understand, and now that I keep not to understand, the

last thing left is to...

I laugh but I cry my soul out [he inverted with "laugh my soul out" which is "rido di

gusto"; instead the verb "ridere" -"to laugh"-, he uses the verb "piangere" -"to cry"] if I

see the muscle-bound and sun-bed freak just to the right point buster, because in my locks

I still have Woodstock's mud, I smell, for now I accumulate the sweat I sprinkle. I love

ladys which have the scent of a codfish, rather than paillettes and peacock feathers

showgirls, I tumble down in a nest egg of joy, even if I won't spend the summer at the

entertainment of the sea-side [the "playa" in Spanish]. I'm the sewer, the incumbent

champion, but I've got the skullcap that burns like rock formed by lava, and in the contest

of that one who cheats in the music, I'm at stake with a two of spades in the hole [here's

new irony: the two of spades, is an unconvinient card, and we use this expression in

Italian when someone refuses to do something for us, or when we have no means in order to

win. I think this expression comes from an Italian card game, called "Briscola", but I'm

not sure, because Briscola is played with different cards, which don't include spades...

they are called "carte Napoletane". The non Ironic expression should be "an ace in the

hole"].
The only sure thing is that I'll come to a bad end: Caparezza dies, let's all go to his

funeral. It's paradoxical, but I won't come, I don't care... good gracious! How many

records they will sell if I extinguish [in the sense of "dying"]


---------------I hope I've been useful ^^-------------------------

Yes, but I think rap is better when you don't know the words. Just imagine what's going on - it's a surreal/delusional video anyway and it won't rhyme in English. If you have a specific question, let me know but it's basically what the cartoon looks like it is.

The words apparently are about like this:
"Io non faccio spettacolo, io do spettacolo come mio nonno ubriaco nel giorno della mia comunione. Talmente fuori di melone che ho parenti per niente contenti di portare il mio stesso cognome. Lasciatemi la presunzione di sentirmi letame: a volte duro a volte liquame. Macché voglia di fama, sono un morto di fame, macché posto a tavola, ho la ciotola come un cane. Abbaio per un paio di piatti che mendico, potrei fare il collerico però me lo dimentico. Mi sta accanto un autentico medico, mi dice: "Non ti rendi conto che diventi schizzofrenico?". Zitto medico, mi costi caro, io valgo zero e non chiamarmi artista, ma cazzaro, è chiaro? Io sono cazzaro alla radice, sono felice nella fece, dovrei piangere ed invece... Sono malato, ma da un lato non do fiato a vittimismi, un Mirko con tutti i crismi, Licia kiss me. Ambisco all'Oscar, ma quello degli aforismi, dovevo farmi la doccia ma mi hanno dato un freesbee e puzzo da schifo, bevo a sbafo, scampato al mio destino come clandestino in uno scafo. Occhi spalancati come un gufo, costruisco tufo su tufo un futuro che mi vede ufo. Sicuro che mi stufo, lo giuro su ogni ciuffo, dovrei suonare la tromba per quante volte sbuffo, se mi tuffo in una mia idea mi ritrovo in apnea in una marea di diarrea, lo trovo buffo. io sono vivo ma non vivo perchè respiro, mi sento vivo solo se sfilo la stilo e scrivo, quando sono nato non capivo ed ora che continuo a non capire non mi resta che... Rido ma piango di gusto se vedo il bell'imbusto palestrato e lampadato al punto giusto, io che tra le ciocche c'ho il fango di Woodstock, puzzo, accumulo per ore sudore che spruzzo. Amo le donne che sanno di merluzzo, più che soubrette da paillettes e piume di struzzo, ruzzolo in un gruzzolo di gioia, anche se l'estate non la passo nello spasso della playa. Sono la chiavica campione in carica ma ho la calotta cranica che scotta come roccia lavica, e nella gara di chi bara nella musica, sono in gioco con un due di picche nella manica. L'unica certezza è che finisco male, muore Caparezza, tutti al funerale. E' paradossale, ma io non vengo, non ci tengo, mamma, quanti dischi venderanno se mi spengo!"