Uprising – Traduzione

posted by Arkham on September 26th, 2009


Paranoia is in bloom,
The PR transmissions will resume,
They’ll try to push drugs that keep us all dumbed down,
And hope that we will never see the truth around
(So come on)
Another promise, another scene,
Another packaged lie to keep us trapped in greed,
And all the green belts wrapped around our minds,
And endless red tape to keep the truth confined
(So come on)

They will not force us,
They will stop degrading us,
They will not control us,
We will be victorious
(So come on)

Interchanging mind control,
Come let the revolution take it’s toll,
If you could flick a switch and open your third eye,
You’d see that
We should never be afraid to die
(So come on)

Rise up and take the power back,
It’s time the fat cats had a heart attack,
You know that their time’s coming to an end,
We have to unify and watch our flag ascend

They will not force us,
They will stop degrading us,
They will not control us,
We will be victorious


La paranoia sta sbocciando,
Le trasmissioni riprenderanno a breve,
Proveranno a darci nuove droghe per tenerci sedati,
Sperando che non vedremo mai la verità che ci circonda
Un’altra promessa, un’altra menzogna,
Un’altra bugia confezionata per tenerci intrappolati nell’avidità,
E tutte le zone verdi che circondano le nostre menti,
E l’infinita burocrazia che tiene la verità nascosta

Non ci costringeranno,
Non ci avviliranno più,
Non ci controlleranno,

Scambiando il controllo sulle menti,
Lascia che la rivoluzione si prenda la sua rivincita,
Se tu potessi all’improvviso accendere il tuo terzo occhio,
Capiresti che non dovremmo mai aver paura di morire

Rialzati e riprenditi il potere,
E’ ora che alle vecchie volpi si schianti il cuore,
Sai che il loro tempo è giunto al termine,
Dobbiamo riunirci e veder issare la nostra bandiera

Non ci costringeranno
Non ci avviliranno più,
Non ci controlleranno,

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Prima di tutto

posted by Arkham on May 22nd, 2009


Prima di tutto vennero a prendere gli zingari
e fui contento, perché rubacchiavano.

Poi vennero a prendere gli ebrei
e stetti zitto, perché mi stavano antipatici.

Poi vennero a prendere gli omosessuali,
e fui sollevato, perché mi erano fastidiosi.

Poi vennero a prendere i comunisti,
e io non dissi niente, perché non ero comunista.

Un giorno vennero a prendere me,
e non c’era rimasto nessuno a protestare.

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posted by Arkham on March 18th, 2009

Nei sentieri già tracciati io mi perdo. Tagore., originally uploaded by Federica Salvatori 2008.

On the seashore of endless worlds children meet.
The infinite sky is motionless overhead
and the restless water is boisterous.
On the seashore of endless worlds the children meet with shouts and dances.

They build their houses with sand and they play with empty shells.
With withered leaves they weave their boats
and smilingly float them on the vast deep.
Children have their play on the seashore of worlds.

They know not how to swim, they know not how to cast nets.
Pearl fishers dive for pearls, merchants sail in their ships,
while children gather pebbles and scatter them again.
They seek not for hidden treasures, they know not how to cast nets.

The sea surges up with laughter, and pale gleams the smile of the sea-beach.
Death-dealing waves sing meaningless ballads to the children,
even like a mother while rocking her baby’s cradle.
The sea play with children, and pale gleams the smile of the sea-beach.

On the seashore of endless worlds children meet.
Tempest roams in the pathless sky, ships get wrecked in the trackless water,
death is abroad and children play.
On the seashore of endless worlds is the great meeting of children.

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The Unending Gift

posted by Arkham on March 10th, 2009

A painter promised us a picture.

Here in New England, having learned of his death, I felt once again the sadness of recognizing that we are but shapes of a dream. I thought about the man and the picture, both lost.

(Only the gods can make promises, for they are deathless.)

I thought about the place, chosen in advance, where the canvas will not hang.

Later, I thought: if it were there, wouldn’t it in time become one thing more–an object, another of the vanities or habits of the house? Now the picture is limitless, unending, capable of taking any form or colour and bound to none.

In some way, it exists. It will live and grow, like music, and will remain with me to the end. Thank you, Jorge Larco.

(Also men can make promises, too,
for in a promise there is something that does not die).

From Jorge Luis Borges, “Elogio de la sombra“.

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posted by Arkham on March 9th, 2009

Quella che mi coglie all’improvviso quando canticchio tra me e me:

E il sistema sicuro è pigliarti per fame
nei tuoi figli in tua moglie che ormai ti disprezza,
perciò chiusi in bottiglia quei fiori di neve,
l’etichetta diceva: elisir di giovinezza.

e mi accorgo della bellezza dell’immagine dei fiori di neve, ancor più bella di quanto pensassi prima quando capisco che quei fiori sono la truffa, il falso, il nulla.

A seguire il video e il testo.

Read the rest of this entry »

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