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The Kriegie Ballad

Robert Garioch
Lingua: Inglese



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[1943?]
Parole di Robert Garioch (1909-1981), poeta e traduttore scozzese
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Testo trovato sull'ineguagliabile Mudcat Café



Robert Garioch era già un promettente giovane letterato, laureato nella natale Edimburgo, quando nel 1941 venne reclutato come telegrafista nella British Army e spedito in Africa. Catturato dai tedeschi nel novembre dell'anno seguente, si fece quel che restava della guerra come prigioniero in Italia. Qui da noi imparò la lingua e anche diversi dialetti e divenne un grande estimatore di Giuseppe Gioacchino Belli, la sua dichiarata maggiore influenza letteraria, insieme al poeta scozzese settecentesco Robert Fergusson.



A Brindisi e Vetralla (Viterbo), che Garioch cita nella sua "Ballata della (Crucca) Guerra", sorgevano due dei tanti campi di prigionia presenti sul territorio italiano.
Yes this is the place we were took Sir,
And landed right into the bag
Right outside the town of Tobruk, Sir,
So now for some bloody stalag.

With a toora-lie, oora-lie addy,
With a toora-lie oora-lie ay,
With attora-lie oora-lie addy,
Here's hoping we're not here to stay!

There was plenty of water in Derna
But that camp was not very well kept
For either you slept in the piss-hole
Or pissed in the place where you slept

With a toora-lie, oora-lie addy,
With a toora-lie oora-lie ay,
With attora-lie oora-lie addy,
Here's hoping we're not here to stay!

And then we went on to Benghazi
We had plenty of room, what a treat!
But I wish that the guard was a Nazi
He might find us something to eat

With a toora-lie, oora-lie addy,
With a toora-lie oora-lie ay,
With attora-lie oora-lie addy,
Here's hoping we're not here to stay!

And then we went on to Brindisi,
With free melons in fields on the way
Parades there were quite free and easy
Except that they went on all day

With a toora-lie, oora-lie addy,
With a toora-lie oora-lie ay,
With attora-lie oora-lie addy,
Here's hoping we're not here to stay!

The sun it grew hotter and hotter
The shit trench was streaked red and brown
The stew was like maiden's water
With gnat's piss to wash it all down

With a toora-lie, oora-lie addy,
With a toora-lie oora-lie ay,
With attora-lie oora-lie addy,
Here's hoping we're not here to stay!

With hunger were nearly demented
You can see it at once by our looks
The only ones really contented
Are the greasy fat bastards of cooks

With a toora-lie, oora-lie addy,
With a toora-lie oora-lie ay,
With attora-lie oora-lie addy,
Here's hoping we're not here to stay!

And now it was late in the autumn
And our clothes they were only a farce
For torn KD shorts with no bottom,
Send a hell of a draught up your arse.

With a toora-lie, oora-lie addy,
With a toora-lie oora-lie ay,
With attora-lie oora-lie addy,
Here's hoping we're not here to stay!

At Musso's show camp at Vetralla,
They gave us beds, blankets and sheets,
They've even got chains in the shit house,
But still they had no bloody seats.

With a toora-lie, oora-lie addy,
With a toora-lie oora-lie ay,
With attora-lie oora-lie addy,
Here's hoping we're not here to stay!

We were promised a treat for our Christmas,
Of thick pasta-shoota, all hot,
But some how the cooks got a transfer,
And shot out of sight with the lot.

With a toora-lie, oora-lie addy,
With a toora-lie oora-lie ay,
With attora-lie oora-lie addy,
Here's hoping we're not here to stay!

So somewhere they wish us good wishes,
That we're not all feeling too queer,
And while they arte guzzling our pasta,
They wish us a Happy New Year.

With a toora-lie, oora-lie addy,
With a toora-lie oora-lie ay,
With attora-lie oora-lie addy,
Here's hoping we're not here to stay!

inviata da Bernart Bartleby - 2/2/2018 - 23:52




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