Translation of the song lyrics L'Orchestrina - Paolo Conte

L'Orchestrina (original)

Ride la stella Aldebaran
ride e fa to be to be to be or not to be
ride la stella ride e fa
trallalà to be to be to be or not to be
e suona suona l’orchestrina
un motivetto da ballare
hanno la faccia malandrina
ma sono stanchi di suonare suonare
si sta spogliando un’odalisca
è già da un’ora che lo fa
esasperante il suo languore aiuto l’orchestrina del mio cuor
ride la stella Aldebaran
ride e fa to be to be to be or not to be
ride la stella ride e fa
trallallà to be to be to be or not to be
ah l’odalisca adesso è nuda
e muove i fianchi in qua e in là
fuori le palme e il vento suda
aria di pioggia e di infelicità
arriva un tipo di Milano
tutto nottabulo languor
mette la mancia sopra il piano
e chiede che si suoni ancora ancor
si suona si suona ancora orchestrina
che poi vedrai che se ne andrà
suonate «bella Madunina»
forza orchestrina del mio cuor
ride la stella aldebaran
ride e fa to be to be to be or not to be
ride la stella ride e fa
trallallà to be to be to be or not to be
ma prima ancora che finisca
altro pensiero ha da pensare
c'è da portare l’odalisca
a fare quattro passi in riva al mare
lo vuol vedere mentre albeggia
esasperante è il suo languor
nel buio che ci ho una scorreggia
ah ah brava orchestrina del mio cuor
(Grazie a LINDA per questo testo e ad Adolfo per le correzioni)

L'Orchestrina (translation)

Aldebaran, the star, tilts her head and laughs,
laughs and softly chants: to be, to be, to be—or not to be—
the star laughs on, weaving riddles as she glows,
trallalà—existence dances, to be or not to be—
and the minuscule orchestra sets the night a-whirl,
with a tune light as lace to sweep you to your feet,
their faces wear the cunning of small-time foxes,
yet weariness clings to their playing, playing—
an odalisque undresses, slow as honey over stone,
it has been an hour of delicate unraveling,
her languor—a fever that begs my heart’s band for mercy,
Aldebaran, the star, laughs in the high window,
again she laughs: to be, to be, to be, or not to be—
the star laughs, braiding riddles as she shines,
trallalà—existence pirouettes: to be or not to be—
ah, the odalisque is bare, a pale flame unveiled,
her hips sway, pendulum between shadow and light,
outside, palms shiver and the wind breaks out in sweat,
the air is heavy with imminent rain and a yearning for loss,
a man from Milan drifts in, dusk clinging to his coat,
his languor is nocturnal, owl-eyed and sleepless,
he leaves his tip on the shining black of the piano,
and pleads for the music to circle back once more, once more,
the little orchestra plays, and plays again,
until, as you’ll see, the visitor dissolves into the night,
play ‘Bella Madunina,’ let the memory linger,
onward, my heart’s own trembling orchestra,
the star Aldebaran laughs, a lantern in indigo,
she laughs and intones: to be, to be, to be, or not to be—
the star laughs, restless, weaving what-might-be,
trallalà—to be, to be, to be, or not to be—
but before the night’s measure can be stilled,
another thought curls in the smoke above the keys,
the odalisque must be led—
to stroll four steps along the hush of the shore,
she craves to see dawn’s veil drawing over the sea,
her languor—again, that exquisite torment—
in the hush, a mischief erupts—my secret in the dark,
ah, bravo, my heart’s own orchestra, play on—
(Thanks to LINDA for this text and to Adolfo for the corrections)