Lyrics of Carlo Martello (Ritorna Dalla Battaglia Di Poitiers) - Fabrizio De André

Carlo Martello (Ritorna Dalla Battaglia Di Poitiers) - Fabrizio De André
Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Carlo Martello (Ritorna Dalla Battaglia Di Poitiers), artist - Fabrizio De André. Album song Gli originali, in the genre Поп
Date of issue: 04.07.2013
Record label: Replay
Song language: Italian

Carlo Martello (Ritorna Dalla Battaglia Di Poitiers)

(original)
Re Carlo tornava dalla guerra
lo accoglie la sua terra cingendolo d’allor.
Al sol della calda primavera
lampeggia l’armatura del Sire vincitor.
Il sangue del Principe e del Moro
arrossano il cimiero d’identico color
ma pi che del corpo le ferite
da Carlo son sentite le bramosie d’amor.
«Se ansia di gloria, sete d’onore
spegne la guerra al vincitore
non ti concede un momento per fare all’amore.
Chi poi impone alla sposa soave
di castit la cintura ahim grave
in battaglia pu correre il rischio di perder la chiave».
Cos si lamenta il re cristano
s’inchina intorno il grano, gli son corona i fior.
Lo specchio di chiara fontanella
riflette fiero in sella dei Mori il vincitor.
Quand’ecco nell’acqua si compone
mirabile visione il simbolo d’amor
nel folto di lunghe trecce bionde
il seno si confonde ignudo in pieno sol.
«mai non fu vista cosa pi bella
mai io non colsi siffatta pulzella»
disse re carlo scendendo veloce di sella.
«Deh, cavaliere non v’accostate
gi d’altri gaudio quel che cercate
ad altra pi facile fonte la sete calmate».
Sorpreso da un fare s deciso
sentendosi deriso re Carlo s’arrest
ma pi dell’onor pot il digiuno
fremente l’elmo bruno il sire si lev.
Codesta era l’arma sua segreta
da Carlo spesso usata in gran difficolt
alla donna apparve un gran nasone
un volto da caprone, ma era Sua Maest.
«Se voi non foste il mio sovrano»
Carlo si sfila il pesante spadone
«non celerei il disio di fuggirvi lontano.
Ma poich siete il mio signore»
Carlo si toglie l’intero gabbione
«debbo concedermi spoglia ad ogni pudore».
Cavaliere lui era assai valente
ed anche in quel frangente d’onor si ricopr
e giunto alla fin della tenzone
incerto sull’arcione tent di risalir.
Veloce lo arpiona la pulzella
repente una parcella presenta al suo signor
«deh, proprio perch voi siete il sire
fan cinquemila lire, un prezzo di favor».
«E' mai possibile, porco d’un cane,
che le avventure in codesto reame
debban risolversi tutte con grandi puttane.
Anche sul prezzo c' poi da ridire
ben mi ricordo che pria di partire
v’eran tariffe inferiori alle tremila lire».
Ci detto, ag da gran cialtrone
con balzo da leone in sella si lanci
frustando il cavallo come un ciuco
tra i glicini e il sambuco il re si dilegu.
Re Carlo tornava dalla guerra
l’accoglie la sua terra cingendolo d’allor.
Al sol della calda primavera
lampeggia l’armatura del sire vincitor.
(translation)
King Charles was returning from the war
he welcomes his land to him by encircling it from then.
In the sun of the warm spring
the armor of the victorious Sire flashes.
The blood of the Prince and the Moor
they redden the crest of the same color
but more than the body's wounds
from Carlo the cravings for love are felt.
"If you are anxious for glory, thirst for honor
extinguishes the war on the victor
does not give you a moment to make love.
Who then imposes on the sweet bride
the belt of chastity, alas, grave
in battle he may run the risk of losing the key ».
Thus complains the Christian king
the wheat bows around, the flowers are crowned.
The clear fountain mirror
proudly reflects the victor in the saddle of the Moors.
When it is composed in the water
admirable vision the symbol of love
in the thick of long blond braids
the breast is confused naked in full sun.
"Never was there a more beautiful thing seen
I never caught such a maid "
King Charles said, quickly getting out of the saddle.
"Oh, knight, don't come near
what you are looking for is already other joy
to another easier source, quench your thirst ».
Surprised by a decisive action
feeling mocked, King Charles stopped
but more than honor was fasting
the brown helmet quivering, the sire rose.
This was his secret weapon
often used by Carlo in great difficulty
a big nose appeared to the woman
the face of a goat, but it was Majesty of him.
"If you weren't my sovereign"
Carlo takes off the heavy sword
«I would not hide the desire to run away from you.
But since you are my lord "
Carlo takes off the entire gabion
"I must allow myself naked to all modesty".
Knight he was very capable
and even in that moment of honor he covered himself
and come to the end of the battle
uncertain about the saddle he tried to go up.
The maid harpoons him quickly
repente a parcel presents to his lord
«Deh, precisely because you are the sire
for five thousand lire, a preferential price ».
"Is it ever possible, pig of a dog,
than adventures in this realm
they must all be resolved with great whores.
Also on the price there is something to say about it
well I remember that before leaving
there were rates below three thousand lire ".
Told us, act like a big scoundrel
leap like a lion in the saddle
whipping the horse like a donkey
between the wisteria and the elder the king disappears.
King Charles was returning from the war
he welcomes his land to him by encircling him from then on.
In the sun of the warm spring
the armor of the victor sire flashes.
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Artist lyrics: Fabrizio De André