Fabrizio De Andre - La Guerra Di Piero - English Traslation lyrics

Lying down buried in a field of rye 't's neither the rose's nor the tulip's eye Watching your sleep in the ditches' ol' bed But it's a thousand red poppies instead "Down by the banks of the stream in my town I want the silvery pikes to swim down No more the corpses of soldiers laid low Carried along by the slithering flow" That's what you said during Winter's cold kiss And like the others straight toward the abyss Sadly you go forth like someone who must Wind's spitting snow in your face with a gust Pete you should stop now, stop right away Let the wind blow on your skin while you may Let it relay you the voice of the dead Who gave his life got a cross back instead You did not hear it though time just went by Along with the seasons you'd march in a line Till you arrived at the border gateway It was a pleasant and sunny Spring day While you were marching your soul on your back Y'spotted a man in the valley's dark crack Inside he was feeling exactly like you Except that his uniform differed in hue Shoot him now Pete with the shotgun you bore Fire one shot and then keep shooting more Till you will see him drop down in the mud Flat on the ground on top of his blood "Now if I aim at his heart or his head I'll leave him time just to see that he's dead But I'll have time to look down where he lies See for the first time a dying man's eyes" While you reflect on a kind way to k** The other one sees you and turns in a chill Taken his gun he gets ready to fight Pulls on the trigger, not quite as polite Y'dropped on the pavement without a moan And understood in a moment alone You would not have enough time to pray for God to forgive all the sins that you bore Y'dropped on the pavement without a moan And understood in a moment alone That your own life was to end on that day And that this journey was only one-way "My little Janet it's over today Don't have the guts to be dying in May My little Janet, descending to hell Would have been better in Winter's cold spell" And while the rye would its ears to you lend 'Gainst your own shotgun your arms you would bend 'Gainst your own teeth came out words of defeat Far too ice-cold to dissolve in the heat Lying down buried in a field of rye 't's neither the rose's nor the tulip's eye Watching your sleep in the ditches' ol' bed But it's a thousand red poppies instead