(Buckle in, it’s a long one….be brave, take your time, know that if you make it through, you’ll be blessed with knowledge of an Italian song so romantic, you will be able to woo and win over even the most unshakeable heart)
In spite of the overabundance of rain (and dampness and cloud-cover), I do like to look out my smallish kitchen window at the leaves. Perhaps the most tolerable thing about all of this rain is that the leaves’ colors are more intense when they are wet.
Cat update: I have switched to a grain-free canned food (they had been on kibble) based on a recommendation from an alternative-medicine vet (I’m not kidding, people, this is the Happy Valley after all). And guess what? It is dramatically improving my fat black cat’s coat and demeanor. The other cat, Willow, well, she’s as sweet as pie and seems simply hungrier for her food than before. They both apparently love their new food and seeing them eat with gusto is satisfying. Now sometimes I wonder if I could just feed them rabbit and chicken meat (and livers and what all other organs). It would all be locally-raised and the money would go straight into the pocket of the farmer, right here, right now. Hmm…..
Socks. This is one of my great weaknesses. I love socks. I love all sorts of them–cotton-blend, merino wool, little short sport-socks with a pink collar and plush terry-cloth interior that I pad around in on the cold (and dirty, it is true) floors of my kitchen, the discount wool-and-synthetic blend ski socks I find every fall at TJ Maxx, the hand-knit socks made of bamboo that I bought at an art fair in Maine in the summer, the Sock Lady socks I bought 3 years ago at our school’s annual Holiday Fair (for my mother who didn’t like them, so she gave them back to me) made from mohair wool which comes from angora goats that the Sock Lady and her husband raise. We call her the Sock Lady and I mean no disrespect because I actually know her real name (Cynthia) because I’ve interacted with her quite a bit over the years, but really, the people who have been at the school for years and years and years and into a decade or more simply call her that because they love and crave the socks she sells. They are warm, they are colorful, they have a beautiful sheen to them, they last and last as long as you don’t wash them on hot or dry them, they make you feel heavenly because you have seen the beautiful black-and-white photos of the goats that the wool comes from and you know how much Bob (the husband) appreciates the goats and how much he loves his wife (by all outward appearances).
I like the discipline it takes for me to NOT plug in my computer on occasion so that the battery can almost run out of juice. You have no idea how compulsively I would like to plug it in and how delicious when I accomplish this goal, as per recommendations I’ve found on the internet.
Loving being involved in the Occupy movement and love watching it evolve via an email list I’m on and the weekly gatherings I attend. Democracy in action. DAMN it’s good, deep down inside.
What the hell’s a stornelli you ask? I can’t find out much more than that it is some sort of traditional Italian song played in a drinking establishment and they all seem to have a similar tempo and similar style of guitar strumming, but I did find some stornelli on youtube that weren’t even played on guitar. You can see the whole stornelli concept could be moved to a Music Monday post, but I love this so much, I couldn’t wait.
I’ve had the song for many years on the soundtrack to “Big Night” (a twinkly favorite and highly recommended). I listen in my car, melting, trying not to cause accidents due to being swept away so fully.
I found a translation for about half of the lyrics, but couldn’t find anything more all over the g-damn internet. I don’t know who wrote the song. I don’t speak Italian. I am so not Italian it shocks even me. But I sure wish I could understand the words to the rest of the song. Being somewhat familiar with many Latin roots and knowing a little bit of French like I do, I can piece out little bits, the moon, and thoughts and breath and song and the four winds, but I could also be wrong, as I am wont to be. Although it may seem like it, I’m not really a fan of Italian culture, but how can you resist quattro venti? Even italicized is Italian. Such beauty. Sigh.
E’scritto nel tuo cuore
Il mio destino,
Anche se l’esistenza m’avvelena.
Anche se l’esistenza m’avvelena
Voglio restare sempre a te vicino.
Per quella bocca rossa
e bella profumata
Ci perdo volentieri la mia vita.
Ci perdo volentieri la mia vita
Per poter dire al mondo l’ho baciata.
Se tu fossi regina
Ed io regnante,
Ti colmerei di perle dell’oriente.
Ti colmerei di perle dell’oriente
In cambio del tuo amore affascinante.
It is written on your heart,
My destiny,
Even though its existence poisons me.
Even though its existence poisons me,
I will always be near you.
For that beautiful and fragrant red mouth
I will gladly give my life.
I will gladly give my life
To tell the world I kissed it.
If you were the reigning queen
And I like a prince,
I would cover you with pearls of the Orient.
I would cover you with pearls of the Orient
In exchange for your enchanting love.
An enchanting song Twink. I like opera occasionally even though I don’t understand it. It’s the passion. You don’t need to understand the words when you can feel them.
Do your cats not supplement their diet by hunting on their own?
Hope your Occupy stays non-violent. My kid called Wed. from San Fran, said Oakland was getting ugly.
Now, socks. Almost as important as the footwear you put on over them, they can cradle your feet with a lovers caress or they can make you miserable from the moment you put them on.
When my younger son was too young to dress himself we often had to put his socks on 3 or 4 times before he nodded his approval. Indulgent? perhaps, but I’m the same way. Can’t stand an improper seam on my toes or an offset heel. We looked all over to find a knitted toe in his small size. Fortunately, at 19, we are no longer dressing him. I trust that one day he will also be supporting himself; maybe even me, WTF.
Opera–my mom is a huge fan, but I know next to nothing. However, we did (my mom treated my daughters and me) go to the Met in NY a few years back. I have now seen 2 operas–The Magic Flute and Barber of Seville. Most enjoyable and something for everyone. Lusty women, stunning costumes, dashing men, song, sets, lights, orchestra: SPECTACLE. I don’t like to listen to opera recorded (at least not so far), but live-and-in-the-flesh is something.
I can get caught up watching youtube videos of certain songs.
Wow, your son was out in Oakland. Yes, Amherst is non-violent thus far, as one would expect. I really love the Amherst cops. They have to put up with a lot of drunken violence. I think they have learned a lot of restraint and patience. Always courteous. There is a plan to protest in front of BoA on Saturday, Nov 5….we’ll see what happens.
The cats eat many, many things. The latest trend is to leave decapitated heads, chipmunk is a current favorite. I almost stepped on a tiny leg the other day, too. Horrid.
I remember screaming my head off as a child when I had to wear tights and one of my daughters was very “tactile sensitive” (as it is now called) for YEARS! I think that’s an okay indulgence. Why not? Spoil them (to a degree) while you can because they will leave soon enough and yes, if they resent too much from childhood, maybe you get put onto an ice floe. Or is that just grandmothers?
[…] may recall that I love the movie Big Night. I love the whole movie. The movie is about food, especially Italian food. And it is a little about […]
That is one beautiful song (and I love the translation)! I will do a bit of research to see if I can find the rest. And yes, “quattro venti” is pretty evocative…
Here is a nice explanation of stornello:
http://www.poetrymagnumopus.com/index.php?showtopic=1148
Hello from Venice, Italy. Not sure if you have solved the problem of the translation of the rest of the stornello (that’s the singular form) yet, but If you let me know I’ll be happy to try. I understand you do not have a title or a text, so I’ll listen to the Youtube version and see what I can come up with.
Stornelli are typical songs from central Italy,often used as impromptu serenades, hence the usual guitar accompaniment, but they can be sung any way you like. As crazy as it may sound, they started out in a way that is not too different from the origins of rapping, but more on that another time, maybe. Sorry, once a teacher, always a teacher.
Thank you so much Daniela. Ah, Venice! What a delight. I was there only once, in March of 1992. It was so cold!
I did not find a translation for the second half of the song nor do I have the lyrics. It would be a bit of a chore to listen and translate, but if you are interested, I would love to see the result.
I like that you have sent me this information. Welcome and come back any time! Katherine
I have not been able to find the remaining verses of the song but thank you for at least a few of them. The song has remained in my psyche ever since I watched the movie a year ago. I was already in bed and I got up just now just to hear the song.
Very cool, Renate. I’m glad you found some resolve for at least some of the verses. If you ever find out more, send them my way.
I do love the movie and the song. So delicious.
Thanks for stopping by! twinkly
Sorry, I was sure I had posted the rest of the lyrics, but it seems I haven’t. Anyway, here they are, with my attempt at a more or less literal translation. I was not able to find a written version, so the Italian is a transcript of the lines sang by Claudio Villa in the Youtube version. Hope that helps.
Son cose belle il sole colla luna
Saranno pure belle le sirene
Saranno pure belle le sirene
Ma bella come te non c’è nessuna.
Per te i miei sospiri e i miei lamenti
Ma il cuore mio non vive che di canti
Ma il cuore mio non vive che di canti
E il nostro amor lo canto ai quattro venti.
Da quando l’amor tuo il cor m’accese
Sto coltivando viole gigli e rose
Sto coltivando viole gigli e rose
Ti condurrò all’altare a fine mese.
The sun and the moon are certainly beautiful
And mermaids are beautiful, too
And mermaids are beautiful, too
But no one is as beautiful as you.
For you (are) my sighs and my laments
But my heart lives on songs alone
But my heart lives on songs alone
And I sing our love from the rooftops.
Since your love has had my heart burning (for you)
I’ve been growing lilies violets and roses
I’ve been growing lilies violets and roses
I will take you to the altar at the end of the month.
Enjoy!
Daniela
Thank you so much. After a few years, we now have all of the lyrics!
It’s a beautiful song, a beautiful language, too.
Thanks for stopping in and for following my blog.
I love that you posted the lyrics, twinkly