Migala - Viaggio Primo

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Viaggio Primo
Musica Pasqualino Ubaldini
Testo Erminio Giulio Caputo (*) e Davide Roberto (**)
Arrangiamento Migala, 6’08’’


Viaggio Primo inizia con un’atmosfera “ballade/saudade”, molto soffusa e misteriosa, per poi liberarsi in un ritmo di pizzica. È la trasposizione in musica di un giorno d’estate: una notte limpida, fresca e misteriosa a cui segue il calore lancinante del sole del meridione.

“Viaggio Primo” begins with a “saudade” atmosphere, very soft and mysterious. The second part is a “pizzica pizzica” with the musicality of Salento. This song is the transposition in the music of a summer day : a clear night , cool and mysterious, followed by the heat of the sun of south Italy.

lyrics

Viaggio Primo
Musica Pasqualino Ubaldini
Testo Erminio Giulio Caputo (*) e Davide Roberto (**)
Arrangiamento Migala, 6’08’’


Viaggio Primo inizia con un’atmosfera “ballade/saudade”, molto soffusa e misteriosa, per poi liberarsi in un ritmo di pizzica. È la trasposizione in musica di un giorno d’estate: una notte limpida, fresca e misteriosa a cui segue il calore lancinante del sole del meridione.

“Viaggio Primo” begins with a “saudade” atmosphere, very soft and mysterious. The second part is a “pizzica pizzica” with the musicality of Salento. This song is the transposition in the music of a summer day : a clear night , cool and mysterious, followed by the heat of the sun of south Italy.

‘Ntra li pensieri nu suspiru se vicina
comu nu carizzu de na nnamurata
terra madre tie nu mme bandunare (**)

Allu marisciu nu ricordu de vie vacanti
e nu silenziu ca te face mpaccire
e na noia ca te face scazzicare (**)

Ritanu jutu le razze de le ulie
ca lu faùgnu junduliscia
pàrenu razze de li nonni nosci (*)

E quista è na terra de suenni prufunni
ca nu coniuga li verbi allu futuru (*)

E lu tamburieddu meu suna dulore
na partenza, nu ritornu, na speranza (**)

Àggiu turnare, àggiu turnare a casa
m’àggiu straccàtu de zzingarisciàre
cu stendu manu e bau ccugghièndu jèntu

Among my thoughts a remembrance is like a sigh,
like a caress of a lover.
Motherland don’t leave me.

A remembrance of vacant streets,
silence that makes you crazy,
and i’d like to dance, so not to be bored.

The arms of the olive trees and their cry of “Help!”
The wind sways the branches of the olive trees
that seem like the arms of our grandparents.

This is a land of deep sleep
that does not conjugate verbs to the future.

My tambourine sounds pain;
a departure, a return, a hope.

I’d like to return to my motherland.
I’m tired to live like a wanderer,
stretching out my hand to ask for help, and collecting only the wind.

credits

from Migala - World 'n' Folk Music, released January 14, 2014

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Migala Rome, Italy

Migala combining ethnic music (Afro-Mediterranean, Balkan, Latin and Irish) with the sounds of musical traditions of Southern Italy, looking for a personal interpretation of folk music and world music, in a world that is increasingly considered a "Global Village".
www.migala.it
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