Romina (voice)

– O limbazu chi ammentas su rumanu  / O language that throws back to the Romans
durche faeddu de sa patria mea,  /  Sweet fairy tail of my patriotic land.
tristu comente cantu ‘e filumena  /  sad like the song of the Filomena bird
chi in sas rosas si dormit a manzanu,  that amidst the roses, sleeps until morning
– cola su mare  /  – the boat undulates,
e cando in sa fiorida America  / and when it flourishes, you’ll be in America
nche ses a tottus nara  /  tell everyone
chi s’isula ‘e Sardigna isettat galu  /  that the island of Sardinia is still waiting
de esser iscoperta e connoschida…  /  to be discovered and known.

Sardinian (original)  /  English translation (Romina Di Gasbarro)
Poem by Grazie Deledda
. Music by Romina Di Gasbarro  

Romina (voice), Lucas Harris (1831 Guadagnini guitar).

Lillallera, Marietta in bianco stasera  /  Lillalera, Marietta in white, tonight
Fiocco nero, tralallero  / Black bow, trallalero
Piccola sposa in canottiera   /  little bride in an undershirt
in primavera  /in spring
lillallero, lillallera. /  lillalero, lillalera.

Lillarone, nella brezza sua canzone  /  Lillarone, her song is on the breeze
Pane e vino, il pastore  /  Bread and wine, the shepherd
Mare e sale, il pescator  /  Sea and salt, the fisherman
per il Re minor  /  and for the little king
Lillalero, lillarone  /  Lillalero, Lillarone.

Lilleranno, le Madonne mormorando  /  Lilleranno, the Madonnas murmer
su un letto di fieno e fiori  / mountain air profumed with rosemary
aria di montagna e rosmarino /  on a bed of straw and linen
su un letto di fieno e lino  /  on a bed of straw and lines,
rose e zafferano,   / roses and saffron,
lilleranno, lilleranno.     /  lillalero, lillalera.  

Real del carro y coronas  / royal carriages and crowns
para la hija del barón  /  for the daugher of the baron
oro y perlas para la reina /  gold and pearls for the queen
hojas de olivo para el peón  /  olive branches for the peasant
Pero en la tierra del granjero  / but into the farmer’s earth
cada esclavo y caballero  /  goes both servant and cavalier
Ay! Ay!  Aimé!    / Ay! Ay! Oh woefulness.

Lillarino, cielo, e roccia Appennino  /  Lillarino, sky, and Appenino mountain rock
acqua santa e magìa  /  holy water and magic
contadino e carrettino,  /  land worker and hand-cart
ecce homo3 e destino,  /  here is man and destiny
lillalero, lillarino  /  lillalero, lillarino

Lillalera, LillalilliLillalera, Lillalilli,
Ninnnana e Amarilli,  /  Lullaby and Amarillis
fame, fuoco, frate e figli  /  hunger, fire, siblings, and children
varicella e morbillo  /  chicken pox and measles
peste, pioggia e parassiti  /  plagues, rain and parasites
fazzoletti e campanelli  /  handkerchiefs and church bells
angioletti e uccelli  /  little angels and birds
ciaramella e tarantella,  /  chaums and tarantella
saltarello e balzello  /  saltarello and balzello
stalle, strilli, e stornelli  /  stables, screams and stornelli
Canta il campo con un coro di grilli  /  The fields sing with a chorus of grasshoppers
lillalera, lillarilli  /  lillalera, lillarilli.

Words and music by Romina Di Gasbarro.

3. 1000 (VIVA V.E.R.D.I.)
Romina (voice, guitar), Francesco Pellegrino (colascione, tammorra), Gianluca Campanino (tammorra), Ben Grossman (tammorra, percussion), Mike Herriott (trumpet, french horn, trombone), Drew Jurecka (violin), Rebekah Wolkstein (violin), Shannon Knights (viola), Rachel Pmedli (cello), Roberto Occhipinti (double bass).

Ascia, gancio, sega, pala, /  Ax, hook, saw, shovel
falce, raspa, zappa, spada, /  scythe, rasp, hoe, sword,
lama, pietra, unghia, denti,  /  blade, stone, fingernail, teeth,
urli, strilli, maledetti!  /  hollers, screams, cursed people!

O diman’ O diman’  /  O tomorrow,  O tomorrow
A Marsala, Garibald’  /  Garibaldi at Marsala
Suona a tromba, suona a guerra  /  Sound the trumpet, Sound the war
Suona in cielo, suona in terra.  /  Resounds in the sky, resounds on the earth.

Scende 1000, e 1000 incontra  /  One thousand descend, and 1000 encounter
Coppole bianca, giubbe rosse  /  White caps, red jackets
Infuoc’ o vient, infuoc’ a notte  /  Ignite the wind, ignite the night
Infuoc’ a vita e la morte  / Ignite life and ignite death.

Suona!  / Play!

Terra acqua, terra pane  /  Land water, land bread
terra amara, terra fame  /  land bitter, land hunger
terra madre, e Schiavona  /  land mother, and slave (also Madonna of Montevergine)
terra nasc’ e terra torna.  /  land birth, and land return.

Corti, chiati, grandi e grossi  / Short, fat, large, robust
alti, bassi, tost’e mosce  /  tall, short, hard, and soft
Per l’onore di servire  /  For the honour of serving
Si, morir, morir, morire! / Yes, death, death, death!

Si! Si! Ah, Ha-ha-ha!  / Yes! Yes, Ah, Ha-ha-ha!

Frate e frate messi in guerra  /  Brother to brother put in war
per padroni in casa terra  / for foreign masters in our home land
senza madre e senza amore  /  without mother and without love
riuniti nell’furore  /  re-united in fury.

O giornata del retagg’  /  O day of wrath (and heritage)
da sotto il piede a sopra il braccio  / from under their feet, to above their brawn
armati dei dolori e santi  / armed by anguish and saints
e il fuoco dei segreti pianti.  /  and the fire of secret tears.

Vola, vola, la regina  /  Fly, fly, the little queen
la baronessa e a piccirilla  /  the baroness, and the little one
vola vola d’o balcone  /  fly, fly from the balcony
lu galinaccio e lu pavone  /  the cock and the peacock.

Preti, papa e preghiere  /  Priests, pope and prayers
Dies ire e miserere  /  Dies ire and miserere
Campanelli suona a vetta  /  Church bells ring from the summit
Pentinenza e vendetta  /  penitence and vengeance

Sbatte, sbatte, cuore batte  /  Pound, pound, the heart pounds
Salta, salta, sangue salta  /  Leap, leap, the blood leaps
Scappa, scappa, scappa, scapp’,  /  Run, run, run, run
Scappa ratto, che mo t’acchiapp’  /  Run rat, for I am going to get you.

Patria mia bella e’ perduta  /  O my homeland, so beautiful and lost
Traviata e abbattuta  /  Lead astray and beaten down
da Milano a Cefalù  /  from Milano to Cefalù
Viva Verdi – V.V.V!  /  Viva Verdi – V.V.V!

Si! Si! Si! Si!  /  Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes!

Siamo la Banda, e la tromba suonerà  /  We are the Band, and the trumpet will sound
morte e martire risusciterà  /  the dead and martyrs will rise again
il peccato è:  /  sin is:
la morte dalla freccia e la forza della legge  / death by the arrow, and the force of the law
ed e’ sommersa la morte nella vittoria  /  and it is submerged in death and victory.

Siamo la Banda, e il tamburo batterà  / We are the Band, and the hand drum beats
in mare o in monte, in paese e campagna  /  by sea or mountain, in town and countryside
corte, canto, e opera, sommersa in tammurriata  /  court, song, and opera, submerged in tammurriata
da Pagliaccio servo al giudice final.  /  from Jester servant to final judge.

Na-na-na-na…..Si, Si, Si, Si, Si, Si!!  /  Na-na-na-na…..Si, Si, Si, Si, Si, Si!!

Words and music by Romina Di Gasbarro  with exception of:   a. “Per l’onore di servire, si morir, morir, morire!” Franco Castelli, Per Un’antropologia del Risorgimento: Canti Popolari, Miti Locali e Fonti Orali b. “Morte e martire risusciterà, Il peccato è: la morte dalla freccia, e la forza della legge. E sommersa é la mort’ dint’a vittoria” 1 Corinthians 15:53-56 c. Musical references from, “Cortigiani, vil razza dannata” from Giuseppe Verdi’s, Rigoletto, used in string parts.

Romina (voice, piano), Drew Jurecka (violin), Rebekah Wolkstein (violin), Shannon Knights (viola), Rachel Pmedli (cello) and Roberto Occhipinti (double bass).

Peter Thorn takes up the sword, behind a mask, for the magic class
It’s for the best you hide your name.
Patriot songs, the chant a-longs, up in the square, in the mountain air
The men hold court and play card games

(They say) “The King always wins, that how it is; ‘cause the king is a king, it’s always been – now play!”
(He says) “The King is a king when he’s on the thrown, the King is a man, that’s given this role – it’s a game!”

Procedamus in pace, in nomine Christi, amen

Everyday, you play the game, you follow suit, fit in the frame
waiting for the day your real life begins
Hear no evil, see no harm – there’s always a job in the devil’s arms
We sacrifice ours souls to win.

(He says) “Loyal poverty is daily bread; resistance poverty is death or dread – you choose.
Do you know the stakes of your sacrifice? How high are you willing to pay the price? – Can you live with what you’ll lose?

Procedamus in pace, in nomine Christi, amen.

King of coins, king of swords, which man is the wolf in the white lamb’s clothes?
We know a wolf from what we’ve seen!
But wolves return in modern clothes, with modern talk, and a popular vote
Which one’s the wolf? Which one’s the sheep?

Rebellion to doctrine, and doctrine to creed; and a counter-regime to the new regime – now what’s right?They put God at the head of the Party and State, pray to the flag and make Heaven the bait – (They say) “The King is on our side!”

It’s no use, they know it’s you
you’ve gone astray, you’ve chosen to choose
Into the woods, into the veil of snow
Angels close in, the bugles blow
The howling lifts and summoning rings
the silence cut, the end begins
her legs sink deep, the run is done
the howls of hunger have begun
the hunter rises and dips below
The lamb holds still in the frozen snow
The wolf trots low, the howling grows…
the howling grows…
the howling grows…

Words and music by Romina Di Gasbarro. Orchestration of piano part into strings by Roberto Occhipinti.

5. A PLACE IN THE SUN (Make Our Nation Great Again)
Romina (voice, guitar), Elmer Ferrer (guitar), Roberto Occhipinti (double bass), Larnell Lewis (kalimba, drums)

I don’t think it’s crazy
But it’s a sign of the times
We want the best
Lest we forget
We won’t regret.

I can make it easy
I know you’ve got a dream
Believe in me
I will set us free
It’s so easy
If you follow me.

Remember a time
When kings trembled at our feet?
This is a sign
We will bring them to their knees

We deserve, we deserve our place in the sun, ya
We deserve, we deserve to be number one
God and Cesar wrote it in the history books it’s plain
We deserve, we deserve to make our nation great again. 2x

Some people have gone crazy
They’ve lost their minds
There’s jealousy, tyranny, hypocrisy
I bring security, trust in me.

Forward we march freely
out of love and duty
From obscurity, to liberty,
we march forward to the drum beat (ancient)

This is the time
When you will tremble at my feet
I am the sign
I am the law, I am the creed

We deserve, we deserve our place in the sun, ya
We deserve, we deserve to be number one
Kings and Jesus wrote it in the history books it’s plain
We deserve, we deserve to make our nation great again.

We deserve, we deserve our place in the sun, ya
We deserve, we deserve to be number one
Kings and Cesar wrote it in the history books it’s plain
We deserve, we deserve to make our nation great again.

Words and music by Romina Di Gasbarro.

6. THE FACTORY (Full Steam Ahead)
Romina (voice, guitar), Elmer Ferrer (guitar), Roberto Occhipinti (double bass), Larnell Lewis (kalimba, drums)

Tick tock teams
and fire machines
black smoke puffs up
American dreams
Oh, the wheels grind hard
and the smoke puffs high
and it shoots like a rocket
through the radio night

Metal rods rise
through the liberty boom
and bombers fly high
through the big band tunes
They’ve got blue suede shoes
and a fine leather coat
and a Fiat 500
and girls that smoke (oh, yeah!)

Leave the farm and the family
cut your loss and the slavery
10 hours a day and weekends free
and vacation paid and base salary
Oh, the shiny new world, of The Factory.

3, 2, 1,
and a firing gun
rising up to the sky
like a hard, hard one
But it’s dark in the morning
and it’s dark at night
and your world grows dark
where there used to be sunlight

Remember the farm and the family
The mountain air and field songs in harmony
10 hours a days of the same monotony
for vacation pay and growing fees
Oh, the shiny new world…

…the shiny new world, the shiny new world…of The Factory

Twist left, loop one
Screw/hook right, another one
Again, again, again, again
it’s never, never done
Just a little spot cog
In the big machine
You’re a cog in your own life
and a cog in your own “dream”

Remember the soil, field and trees
When you watered, snipped and pulled her weeds
til the fruit grew ripe, and pure and sweet
then the harvest reaped, until you dropped another seed
Oh, the shiny new world, of The Factory.

Words and music by Romina Di Gasbarro.

Romina (voice), Elmer Ferrer (guitar, charango), Gianluca Campanino (chitarra battente, tamburello).

San Paolo é venuto nel sogno
San Paolo é venuto nel sogno
Svolazzava sopra il mio letto
E mi mise il ballo nel petto

Nel bacino di notte aspetto (nel bacino di luna t’aspetto)
Che mi metti il ballo nel petto
le voci volano sul vento
le voci volano sul vento
fantasmi sull’aria sento
le voci che volano sul vento

Stanotte barcollando per il campo,
vago, cerco, e ti chiamo
nel suono del tamburro ti rangiungo
nel suono del tamburro

Taranta! Taranta!
Vienimi a pigliá! Vienimi a pigliá!

Gira, gira, gira mondo
Gira, gira, gira, gonna
Gira, mondo, Gira gonna
Gira, gira, gira, donna, gira!

San Paolo con la spada in mano
San Paolo con la spada in mano
Nel bacino di notte aspetto
Che mi metti il ballo nel petto

Stanotte barcolando, per il campo
vago, cerco, e ti chiamo
velata nel mistero, ti ragiungo
nel suono del tamburro

Taranta! Taranta!
Vienimi a pigliá! Vienimi a pigliá!

Gira, gira, gira mondo
Gira, gira, gira, gonna
Gira, mondo, Gira gonna
Gira, gira, gira, donna, gira!

Words and music by Romina Di Gasbarro.

Romina (voice, guitar), Elmer Ferrer (guitar), Roberto Occhipinti (double bass). 

Quanto é magico il mare
Corpo d’azzurro che vive
sotto il lume della luna
Lucica come un diamante

Quanto é magica la terra
Grani di storia unita
ogni suono e forma
nasce, sfiora, e torna

Quanto é magica la neve
velo di bianco che tace
Sotto il fuoco del sole
brilla come un diamante

Quanto é magico il cielo
stelle, l’essere, il pianto
L’inizio di ogni mondo
Sconosciuto e profondo.

Quanto é magico.

Words and music by Romina Di Gasbarro.

Romina (voice), Tommaso Sollazzo (zampogna), Ben Grossman (ghironda).

Lungo la via sterrata per Leporanica
Aria dal ghiaccio e suoni di campana
sotto le stelle e sopra le balle di fieno
sto cuore é pieno d’amore per te
fiori di mandorlo, e rami di ceci
che tu dicevi, piu bello non c’é.

Questa é tua terra, é madre alma
Questa é tua lingua, é tua parola
Voce di grazia, ricamo antico
Stornello é figlio del popolo
Nonno, poeta e contadino
Figlia son io, I me recurd

Al focolaio, “Sent’a me a nonna sente,
I teng’ poca scuola ma tanta esperienza.”
Squillo di rabbia, squillo di Ave Maria
madre di Dio, tu prega per noi
Nonna, attrice e Contadina
Sono tua figlia, imerecord

Scambio cavallo a San Demetrio
Scappò con spada, San Nicandro
Implorava la maestra, Signora suo figlio,
Brillante e ingegno, de’ studiare ancor’
Babbo coraggio e filosifia filosofo,
Sono tua figlia, I me record.

Ali di lini al vento Colombe in aria
Volata via Colomba in primavera
Vola, vola, vola, vola, risate, profumo di madre
Santi e rosari, in celeste volò,
Mamma, cantante e fiore dei fiori
Lu prima ammore, imerecord

Vedi questa anima, vedi sto core mio
I nun m’arrende – per l’amore di Dio!
Forte e Gentile, sangue di fuoco e di ghiaccio
L’amore é sacro, sacro é amor
Donna infinita, roccia e universo
Canto e verso, imerecord.

Words and music by Romina Di Gasbarro.

Romina (voice, guitar), Elmer Ferrer (guitar), Roberto Occhinpinti (double bass), Larnell Lewis (drums)

O Bedouin, O stars
Are you gonna stay a while?
For the sweet and ancient fire inspires
Rising up from burning silhouettes
The silhouettes of time
Flickering in the fire.

From east to west you roam, from Venus rising from sea foam,
You’re the son, the apple of discord, a Trojan prince you were born
The son of Noah would not be the drowned
that Nimrod raised his fist to the clouds
and pierced them with his temple tower, readied for the final hour
So the Lord split the tongues of the masses that came tumbling down from the tower towns
of Babel like beads of storm running like finger lakes into the fertile plough

Oh Bedouin…

From Anatolia to Ionian seas, you
“loose your ships to seek domains in Italy”
feed under the belly with your new fraternity
the milk of wolves passing through ancestries,
In poets, painters, alchemists, and peasantry,
In the bourgeois and nobility,
O Bedouin…you’re rushing through me

Castles crumble, battles call,
Etruscan to Latins, Greek-Roman to Gaul,
Egyptian queens and lover’s brawls, your Reign of Empires falls on
Byzantines, Saracens, Holy Terror Papacy,
Norman, Austrian and Spanish tribes, your name is not yet realized
So the road north was taken by Beatrice and Renzo down to the southern cliffs,
And gesture to Pulcinella (Punch) and Pantalone
“come to the river and wash your clothes in the Arno.”

O Bedouin

By the river they met with the wooden child
running from the fox and cat and monster so riled
“If you don’t wise up you’ll never be a boy
Stay away from schemes and tricks and old decoys.”
I promise, I promise, I promise, I’ll be good
Into a boy, from fire wood)
O Bedouin…You rage a battle in me.

A flock of white vales cross Neptune’s waves,
and centuries pass like hours in days
Stirring up dark ancient seas, drawing new lines in old mythologies
In the distance a portrait, a Newfound land, anchored on the shores of tattooed paths
of Chipawahs and Ojibways, and Seneca that passed this way.
When the grey wolf howled from the mountain sky, from the precipice, the danger cry,
the she-wolf inside you tightened her grip for her reply,
Did you listen? Did you muzzle the wild?

O Bedouin

And from a land once jeweled with hides and evergreens
Grew babel towers of urban deities
Profit idols and flashing programming
of west to eastern new commodities
And political gods and media frauds with tabloid offerings
who sacrifice on the altar of bargains, and marketing
O Bedoiun…You’re howling me…

In Julius and Socrates,
in the Pompeiian and her little baby,
in Mecca, Latium and Nazarene,
in the disciples and the apostles’ creed
in Orfeus and Allighieri
in Spanish Queens and peasantry
in Napoleon and Garibaldi
in the Resurgence and tyranny
in broken bones and packaged dreams
in the living gallery,
in the bought, in the sold, fallen, rapined
in the northern greed and the southern disease

O Bedouin, when are you gonna free?

Words and music by Romina Di Gasbarro.