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Una donna in lutto (A Woman in Mourning)

Sicilia, mio cuore
Oggi non sono fiera di te.
Anche il cielo si chiude
E il vento si ferma.

La nostra storia di intimidazione.
Non quella che viene
raccontata al mondo,
ma quella che viviamo noi.

Una volta, per le tue vie camminai
E tra aranci e olivi giocai.
Una volta, la mia isola bella,
Ma ora non ti conosco piu`.

Una terra in cui sacro e profano si mescolano.
Paesani, svegliatevi!! Abbiamo perso la nostra voce.
Minaccie, punta e spara, bugie forgiate,
Questa e` la nostra croce.

Una terra di pena
Tutti sordi e muti, le nostre bocche cucite.
Abbiamo la corda intorno al collo.
Stasera sono una donna in lutto.

Bastonano i nostri ragazzi per strada,
Oggi, mio fratello e domani, forse il tuo.
Loro con gli occhi neri e noi con i cuori spezzati,
Stavolta eravamo fortunati.

Terra nostra che beve il sangue dei morti.
Silenzio, solitudine, anime incatenate.
Sento i lamenti, il pianto di una mamma.
L’ombra che soffoca il nostro cuore.

Lottiamo per il bene
Ma ci costera` la propria vita.
Insieme contro loro
Fuori Cosa Nostra!! Fuori dalle case nostre!!

Una donna in lutto (A Woman in Mourning)

  • Artist
    Notes
  • Artwork Comments 31

Artist's Description

Sometimes I don’t love my country so much…..this is a strong part of the love/hate relationship that I have with it.

English Translation

Sicily, my heart
Today I am not proud of you.
Even the sky closes
And the wind stops.

Here is our story of intimidation.
Not the one that is told
to the world,
But the one that we live.

Once, I used to walk through your streets.
Amongst orange and olive trees, I used to play.
Once, you were my beautiful island,
But now I no longer recognise you.

A land in which the sacred and the profane mix together.
People of Sicily, wake up!! We have lost our voice.
Threats, point and shoot, forged lies,
This is the cross that we bear.

A land of suffering,
We are all deaf and mute, our mouths sewn shut,
With a rope around our necks.
Tonight I am a woman in mourning.

They beat our boys with sticks on the street.
Today, my brother but tomorrow, probably yours.
Black eyes for them and bleeding hearts for us.
This time we were lucky.

Our land drinks the blood of the dead.
Silence, solitude, chained souls.
I hear the moans of grief, a mother crying.
The shadow that suffocates our heart.

Let’s fight for what is good,
But it will cost us our lives.
Together against them
Get out Cosa Nostra! Get out of our homes!

Artwork Comments

  • Lisa  Jewell
  • diLuisa Photography
  • raymondoantonio
  • diLuisa Photography
  • mikequigley
  • diLuisa Photography
  • CLiPiCs
  • diLuisa Photography
  • CLiPiCs
  • diLuisa Photography
  • CLiPiCs
  • deb1957
  • diLuisa Photography
  • Kim McClain Gregal
  • diLuisa Photography
  • Hector A. Encinas
  • diLuisa Photography
  • Christie  Moses
  • diLuisa Photography
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