maurizio gottardi                                                    maurizio gottardi

   peter giacomuzzi                                                                                                           peter giacomuzzi

 

                                                                                                         

 le valli del fiume.       1                                               1          die täler des flusses

          e quelle del monte                                                                    und jene des berges

 

          si toccano                                                                     berühren sich

          nelle lontane linee                                                                     in den weiten linien

      dell´orizonte                                                                     des horizonts

 

     le perspettive                                                                     die perspektiven

      posti perduti                                                                     verlorene stätten

      dell´umanitá                                                                      der menschheit

 

          la ragione si perde                                                                     die vernunft verliert sich

                      nei quadri                                                                     in den bildern

          del pittore                                                                     des malers

 

              le veritá                                                                     die wahrheiten

           aspettano                                                                     erwarten

          lo sguardo                                                                     den blick

 

 

 

 

        dove il delta finisce         2                                            2            wo das delta endet

                    i fenicotteri                                                                     die flamingos

       sorvolano il confine                                                                    fliegen über die grenze

          ma non si capisce                                                                   doch versteht man nicht

 

          le parole dei poeti                                                                     die worte der dichter

      si perdono nelle valli                                                               verlieren sich in den tälern

                      geroglifici                                                                     hieroglyphen

             e non si capisce                                                            und es wird nicht verstanden

 

     la musica è il silenzio                                                                     musik ist die stille

    della nebbia invernale                                                                     der winternebel

           il colore del gatto                                                                     die farbe der katze

                 striscia la tela                                                                streift durch die leinwand

 

       le gondole dei sogni                                                                   die gondeln der träume

       distruggono i campi                                                                     zerstören die felder

         e il pittore colora e                                                                   und der maler färbt und

         ridipinge il mondo                                                                     übermalt die welt

 

    la violenza che si vede                                                                   die gewalt die man sieht

                    non fa male                                                                    tut nicht weh

          l´altra non si vede                                                                die andere sieht man nicht

        il penello nasconde                                                                     der pinsel verdeckt

    apre per un momento                                                                 öffnet für einen moment

                       si capisce                                                                     man versteht

 

 

                                                                                                                     

 

     pazzo          3                                              3          verrückt

 

 colori son senza morale                                                                    farben sind ohne moral

                  come l´acqua                                                                    wie´s wasser

 

   ci sono                                                                     sind da

       si perdono sulla tela                                                                     verlieren sich im blatt

   come nel delta                                                                     wie im delta

       il po                                                                     der po

 

      e noi                                                                     und wir

         rimaniamo                                                                     bleiben

     spersi                                                                     verloren

 

           tu capisci                                                                     verstehst du

      io no                                                                     ich nicht

 

          i colori si perdono                                                                  die farben verlieren sich

              nel delta del po                                                                     im delta des po

 

 

                                                                                                         

 

         come le montagne.       4                                                         4            wie die berge

      sopra o sotto il mare                                                               über oder unter dem meer

 

l´acqua non vola                                                                     wasser fliegt nicht

           ma scorre                                                                     doch fließt es

  evapora                                                                     verdunstet

 

          giù                                                                    unten

 

     la fine                                                                    das ende

           nel fondo                                                                     im boden

 é l´inizio                                                                     ist anfang

 

      e dopo di noi                                                                    und nach uns

      qualcuno dirá                                                                    sagt eine/r

 

          non la fine                                                                    nicht ´s ende

    l´inizio                                                                    der anfang

 

     storto                                                                     verbogen