Ma se ghe penso

O l'êa partîo sensa 'na palanca,
l'êa zâ trent'anni, fòrse anche ciù.
O l'aveiva lotòu pe mette i dinæ a-a banca
e poèisene un giorno vegnî in zù
e fâse a palasinn-a e o giardinetto,
co-o ranpicante, co-a cantinn-a e o vin,
a branda atacâ a-i èrboi, a ûzo létto,
pe dâghe 'na schenâ séia e matin.

Ma o figgio o ghe dixeiva: «No ghe pensâ
a Zêna, cöse ti ghe veu tornâ?!»
Ma se ghe penso alôa mi veddo o mâ,
veddo i mæ monti, a ciassa da Nonçiâ,
riveddo o Righi e me s'astrenze o cheu,
veddo a lanterna, a cava, lazù o Meu...

Riveddo a-a séia Zêna iluminâ,
veddo là a Fôxe e sento franze o mâ
e alôa mi penso ancon de ritornâ
a pösâ e òsse dôve ò mæ madonâ.

E l'êa pasòu do tenpo, fòrse tròppo,
o figgio o l'inscisteiva: «Stemmo ben,
dôve ti veu andâ, papà?.. pensiêmo dòppo,
o viâgio, o mâ, t'ê vêgio, no conven!».

«Oh no, oh no! me sento ancon in ganba,
son stùffo e no ne pòsso pròpio ciû,
son stanco de sentî señor caramba,
mi véuggio ritornâmene ancon in zù…
Ti t'ê nasciûo e t'æ parlòu spagnòllo,
mi son nasciûo zeneize e… no me mòllo!».

Ma se ghe penso alôa mi veddo o mâ,
veddo i mæ monti, a ciassa da Nonçiâ,
riveddo o Righi e me s'astrenze o cheu,
veddo a lanterna, a cava, lazù o Meu…
Riveddo a-a séia Zêna iluminâ,
veddo là a Fôxe e sento franze o mâ
e alôa mi penso ancon de ritornâ
a pösâ e òsse dôve ò mæ madonâ.

E sensa tante cöse o l'é partîo
e a Zêna o gh'à formòu torna o so nîo.

He had left without a single penny,
already thirty years ago, perhaps even more.
He had struggled to put his money in a bank
and to be able to come back some day
and to build his little house and his little garden
with a creeper, a cellar and the wine,
with a hammock tied to the trees to use it as a bed,
to rest on it in the evening and morning.

But his son told him «Don't think about
Genoa, do you really want to go back there?!»
But if I think about it, then I see the sea,
I see my mountains, the Annunziata square
I see Righi again, and I feel a pang in my heart,
I see the Lighthouse, the cave and the Dock down there…

I see again Genoa by night, illuminated,
I see the Mouth [of the Bisagno] on the shore and I hear the sea dashing,
and then I think to go back again
to lay my bones where my grandmother is.
 
And a lot of time passed, perhaps too much,
his son insisted: «We're fine here,
where do you want to go, dad? we'll think about it later:
the travel, the sea, you're old… better not to!»

«Oh no, oh no! I'm still good to go,
I'm fed up, I can't stand it anymore,
I'm tired of hearing señor caramba
I want to go back again there…
You were born and spoke Spanish,
I was born Genoan and… I don't give up!»
 
But if I think about it, then I see the sea,
I see my mountains, the Annunziata square,
I see Righi again, and I feel a pang in my heart,
I see the Lighthouse, the cave and the Dock down there…
I see again Genoa by night, illuminated,
I see the Mouth on the shore and I hear the sea dashing,
and then I think to go back again
to lay my bones where my grandmother is.
 
And without any fuss he departed
and in Genoa he built his nest again.