Perdu
13-03-02, 11:47
Inno Nazionale Sardo composto nel 1796 da Francesco Ignazio Mannu
(Translated by Raffaele Ladu)
Su Patriottu Sardu a sos Feudatarios - The Sardinian Patriot Tells the Feudatories
Testu Sardu # English Translation
Procurad'e moderare,
Barones, sa tirannia,
Chi si no, pro vida mia,
Torrades a pe' in terra!
Declarada e' giā sa gherra
Contra de sa prepotenzia,
e cominza' sa passienzia
In su pobulu a mancare.
01
Try and moderate,
Barons, your tyranny,
Otherwise, I swear upon my life,
You will be knocked down!
The war against arrogance
Has already been declared,
And the people's patience
Is going to run out!
Mirade ch'est'azzendende
Contra de 'ois su fogu;
Mirade chi no e' giogu
Chi sa cosa andat 'e veras;
Mirade chi sas aeras
Minnettana temporale;
Zente consizzada male,
Iscultade sa 'oghe mia.
02
Look out, as it is lightning
A fire at you;
Look out, it is not kidding,
It is acting seriously!
Look out, as the climate
Is getting stormy!
Ill-advised people,
Listen to my speech!
No apprettedas s'isprone
A su poveru runzinu,
Si no in mesu caminu
S'arrempellat appuradu;
Minzi ch'es lanzu e cansadu
E no nde pode' piusu;
Finalmente a fundu in susu
S'imbastu nd'hat a bettare.
03
Don't sink your spur
Into your poor nag,
Or in the midway hewill
Gets frisky and flares up!
Look out: he is lean and weary
and can't bear it anymore!
He eventually will turn
The yoke upside down!
Su pobulu chi in profundu
Letargu fi' sepultadu,
Finalmente despertadu,
S'abbizza' chest in cadena,
Ch'ista' suffrende sa pena
De s'indolenzia antiga:
Feudu, legge inimiga
A bona filosofia.
04
The people that was in deep
Lethargy buried,
Awaken at last
Notices itself chained,
Bearing the punishment
Of its ancient indolence:
Feudalism, a concept clashing
with any rational law.
Che ch'esseret una inza,
Una tanca, unu cunzadu,
Sas biddas hana donadu
De regalu o a bendissione;
Comente unu cumone
De bestias Berveghinas
Sos homines e femėnas
Han bendidu cun sa cria.
05
As if they were a vineyard,
An estate or a hamlet,
The townships have given them,
As gifts or for a song,
As if they were
A flock of sheep,
Men and women were so sold
with their offspring.
Pro pagas mizas de liras,
E tale olta pro niente,
Isclavas eternamente
Tantas pobulassiones,
E migliares de persones
Servint a unu tiranu.
Poveru generu humanu,
Povera sarda zenia!
06
For a few thousand Lire,
End sometimes for nothing,
Eternally slave several
Peoples were made,
And thousands people
Now serve a tyrant.
Poor humankind,
Poor Sardinian people!
Deghe o doighi familias
S'han partidu sa Sardigna,
De una manera indigna
Si nde sun fattas pobiddas;
Divididu s'han sas biddas
In sa zega antighidade:
Perō sa presente edade
Lu pensat rimediare.
07
Ten or twelve families
Have shared out Sardinia,
In a shameful way
They became its lords;
They shared out the towns
In the blind old times,
But the present era
Is going to amend it.
Nasche' su Sardu soggettu
A milli cumandamentos:
Tributos e pagamentos
Chi faghet a su Segnore
In bestiamen e laore
In dinari e in natura;
E paga' pro sa pastura,
E paga' pro laorare.
08
A Sardininan is born subject
To thousand duties,
Tributes and payments
To be given to his Lord,
In cattle and corn,
In money and goods;
He pays for the meadow,
He pays also to plough.
Meda innantis de sos feudos
Esistiana sas biddas,
Et issas fini pobiddas
De saltos e biddattones.
Comente a bois, Barones,
Sa cosa anzena es passada?
Cuddu chi bos l'ha' dada
Non bos la podia' dare.
09
Long before the Fiefs
There were the Townships,
Which were masters
Of woods and country.
How could it be, Barons, that somebody
Else's estate was conveyed to you?
Those who gave it to you
Were not entitled to!
No es mai presumibile
Chi voluntariamente
Happa' sa povera zente
Zedidu a tale derettu;
Su titulo ergo est'infettu,
De infeudassione,
E i sas biddas reione
Tenen de l'impugnare.
10
It is preposterous to assume
That poor people willingly
Conveyed such land rights!
The titles are therefore
Objectionable
Due to infeudation,
And the townships are right
In challenging them!
Sas tassas in su prinzipiu
Esigiazis limitadas,
Dae pustis sun andadas
Ogni die aumentende,
A misura chi crescende
Sezis andados in fastu,
A misura chi in su gastu
Lassezis s'economia.
11
In the beginning you levied
Only a few taxes,
But then they kept
Rising every day
According to the growth
In your luxury,
According to the dwindling
Of your spareness.
No bos balet allegare
S'antiga possessione;
Cun minettas de presone,
Cun castigos e cun penas,
Cun zippos e cun cadenas,
Sos poveros ignorantes,
Derettos esorbitantes
Hazis forzadu a pagare.
12
It is worthless to claim
Your ancient possession:
By threats with jail,
By punishments and penalties,
By stumps and chains,
The ignorant poors
Were forced to pay
Exorbitant duties.
A su mancu s'impleerent
In mantenner sa giustissia,
Gastighende sa malissia
De sos malos de su logu;
A su mancu disaogu
Sos bonos poterant tenner,
Poterant andare e benner
Seguros per i sa via.
13
If only had they been used
To keep the King's Peace,
By punishing the malice
Of the felons among us:
At least the goodies
Could feel relieved,
And safe could they
come and go their way.
Es cussu s'unicu fine
De ogni tassa e derettu,
Chi seguru, e chi chiettu
Sutta sa legge si vivat;
De custu fine nos privat
Su Barone pro avarissia.
In sos gastos de giustissia
Faghe' solu economia.
14
It is the only goal
Of any tax or duty:
That safe and quiet anybody
Abiding by the law may live;
But of such a goal we are
Deprived by the Baron's avarice:
He only spares the
Justicial expenses!
Su primu chi si presentat
Si nominat offisiale,
Fatta' bene o fatta' male
Basta non chirche' salariu:
Procuradore o Notariu,
O camareri o lacaju,
Sia' murru o sia' baju,
E' bonu pro guvernare.
15
The first comer
Is appointed "officer",
Be it a good or bad doer, it's
Enough that he doesn't seek a pay:
Attorney or notary,
Waiter or lackey,
Be it Black or White,
He is deemed good to govern.
Basta chi preste sa manu
Pro fagher crescher sa rčnta,
Basta' chi fatta' cuntenta
Sa buscia de su Segnore;
Chi aggiuet a su fattore
A crobare prontamente,
E s'algunu es renitente
Chi l'iscat esecutare.
16
It is enough that he does something
To raise the rent;
It is enough that he has
His Lord's Purse replenished;
That he helps the farm manager
To swiftly collect his duties,
And if somebody is reluctant,
That he is able to shake him down!
A boltas, de podattariu,
Guverna' su cappellanu
Sas biddas cun una manu
Cun s'attera sa dispensa.
Feudatariu, pensa,
Chi sos vassallos non tener
Solu pro crescher sos benes,
Solu pro l'iscorzare.
17
At times, as a vassal, it is
The chaplain who governs
The towns with a hand,
And his pantry with the other.
Feudatory, think
That you don'k keep vassals
To increase your wealth,
Only to skin them!
Su patrimoniu, sa vida,
Pro difender, su villanu
Con sas armas a sa manu
Chere' ch'iste' notte e die;
Giā ch'hat a esser gasie,
Proite tantu tributu?
Si non si nd'hat haer fruttu
Es locura su pagare.
18
To defend your estate, your life,
You force the villein
To stand weapons-in-hand
Day and night;
As things run as such,
Why so harsh a tribute?
If you don't get a profit,
It is foolish to pay.
Si su Barone non faghet
S'obligassione sua,
Vassallu, de parte tua,
A nudda ses obbligadu;
Sos derettos ch'ha' crobadu
In tantos annos passados,
Sunu dinaris furados
E ti los deve' torrare.
19
If the Baron doesn't perform
What he is bound to,
Vassal, you are
Bound to nothing!
The duties he has collected
In so many years
Are stolen money,
And he has to pay you back!
Sas rentas servini solu
Pro mantenner cicisbeas,
Pro carrozzas e livreas,
Pro inutiles servissios,
Pro alimentare sos vissios,
Pro giogare a sa bassetta,
E pro poder sa braghetta
Fora de domo isfogare.
20
The rents are only used
To maintain sluts,
To buy coaches and liveries,
To get useless services,
To encourage vice,
To play "bassetta",
And to be able to vent
Your lust far from home!
Pro poder tenner piattos,
Bindighi e vinti in sa mesa,
Pro chi potta' sa marchesa
Sempre andare in portantina;
S'iscarpa istrinta, mischina,
La faghet andare a toppu,
Sas pedras punghene troppu
E non pode' camminare.
21
To have fifteen or twenty dishes
Cooked for your meal,
To allow the marchioness to be
Always carried in sedan chair:
Her tight shoes force
Her to limp, poor lady;
Stones hurt too much,
So she can't walk!
Pro una littera solu
Su vassallu, poverinu,
Faghe' dies de caminu
A pe', senz'esser pagadu,
Mesu iscurzu e isporzadu,
Espostu a dogni inclemenzia;
Eppuru tene' passienzia,
Eppuru deve'cagliare.
22
For just a letter,
The poor vassal
Has to travel for several days,
Tirelessly walking, without pay,
Ill-shod and barely dressed,
Exposed to bad-weather;
But he is patient,
He ought to hush.
Ecco comente s'implea
De su poveru su suore!
Comente, Eternu Segnore,
Suffrides tanta ingiustissia?
Bois, Divina Giustissia,
Remediade sas cosas,
Bois, da ispinas, rosas
Solu podides bogare.
23
Behold how it is used
The poor man's sweat!
How could you, Eternal Lord,
Bear so blatant an injustice?
You, Divine Justice, pray,
Amend such things!
Only you can turn
Thorns into roses!
O poveros de sas biddas,
Trabagliade, trabagliade
Pro mantenner in zittade
Tantos caddos de istalla,
A bois lassan sa palla,
Issos regoglin su ranu:
E pensan sero e manzanu
Solamente a ingrassare.
24
O poors living in town,
You are working, you keep working
To maintain in town
These stable horses;
You are left with the stalk,
They collect the corn;
And from morning to evening
They only think to getting fat.
Su Segnor Feudatariu
A sas undighi si pesa':
Da e su lettu a sa mesa,
Da e sa mesa a su giogu:
E pustis, pro disaogu
Andat a cicisbeare;
Giompid'a iscurigare:
Teatru, ballu, allegria.
25
The Feudal Lord
Wakes up at eleven;
He strolls from the bed to the table,
From the eating to the gambling table;
Then, as a sport,
He begins flirting.
As dusk approaches,
He goes to theatre, ball, merrymaking.
Cantu differentemente
Su vassallu passa' s'ora!
Innantis de s'aurora
Giā es bessidu in campagna;
Bentu o nie in sa muntagna,
In su paris, sole ardente.
O poverittu! Comente
Lu podet agguantare?
26
How differently
The vassal spends his time!
Before dawn
He has already gone to country;
Be wind or snow in mountain,
Or hot weather as well.
Poor mite! How
Can he bear all that?
Cun su zappu e cun s'aradu
Pelea' tota sa die;
A ora de mesu die
Si ziba' de solu pane.
Mezzus paschidu e' su cane
De su Barone, in zittade,
S'es' de cudda calidade
Chi in falda solen portare.
27
With hoe and plough
He struggles the whole day;
At midday
He can only eat bread.
Better eats the
Baron's dog in town,
If it belongs to
The lap-dogs breed.
Timende chi si reforment
Disordines tantos mannos,
Cun manizzos et ingannos
Sas Cortes hana impediu;
Et isperdere han cherfidu
Sos patrizios pius zelantes,
Nende chi fin petulantes
E contra sa Monarchia.
28
Fearing that so serious disorders
Would have eventually been reformed,
They barred the Court's action
With plots and lies;
And they had disbanded
The most zealous patricians,
Under the pretence of petulance
And plotting against the King.
Ai cuddos ch'in favore
De sa patria han peroradu,
Chi s'ispada hana 'ogadu
Pro sa causa comune,
O a su tuju sa fune
Cherian ponner, meschinos!
O comente a Giacobinos
Los cherian massacrare.
29
Those who pleaded
Our country's cause,
Those who unsheathed the
Sword for our common sake,
Were to be hung to
The gallows, poor heros!
Or to be massacred
Like Jacobins!
Perō su Chelu ha' difesu
Sos bonos visibilmente,
Atterradu ha' su potente,
Ei s'umile esaltadu.
Deus, chis 'es declaradu
Pro custa patria nostra,
De ogn'insidia bostra
Isse nos hat a salvare.
30
But Heaven has clearly
Defended the Goodies:
He brought down the mighties,
And raised the humble up!
God, who has pledged His
Support to our land,
Will save us from
Any of your snares.
Perfidu Feudatariu!
Pro interesse privadu
Protettore declaradu
Ses de su Piemontesu.
Cun issu ti fist'intesu
Cun meda fazilidade;
Isse pā pada in zittade,
E tue in bidda a porfia.
31
Treacherous Feudatory!
Your own interest
Made you the avowed
Protector of the Piedmontese!
You got even too
Well with him:
He gobbles up in city,
You follow suit in town.
Fi' pro sos Piemontesos
Sa Sardigna una cuccagna;
Che in sas Indias s'Ispagna
Issos incontrant inoghe;
Nos alzaia' sa 'oghe
Finzas unu camareri;
O plebeu o cavaglieri,
Si deviat umiliare.
32
Sardinia has always been a
Bonanza for the Piedmontese:
They feel here like
Spaniards in their Indies.
Even a waiter was allowed
To tell us off: had we been
Plebeians or knights,
We had to bow down.
Issos da e custa terra
Ch'hana 'ogadu miliones
Benian senza calzones
E si nd'andaian gallonados.
Mai ch'esserent istados
Chi ch'hana postu su fogu!
Malaitu cuddu logu,
Chi creia' tale zenia!
33
They have drawn millions
From our land!
They come bare-butted and
Went home covered with stripes.
We wish they had never come,
As they have plundered our land!
Cursed be the place
Which has begotten such a breed!
Issos inoghe incontrāna
Vantaggiosos imeneos
Pro issos fin sos impleos,
Pro issos fin sos onores,
Sas dignidades mazores
De cheia, toga e ispada:
E a su Sardu restāda
Una fune a s'impiccare.
34
They arrange exceedingly
Favourable weddings;
All the employments are for them,
For them are all the honours, and
All major dignities of
The Church, the Bench and the Sword:
To the Sardinian is only left
A rope for hanging himself to.
Sos disculos nos mandāna
Pro castigu e curressione,
Cun paga e cun pensione,
Cun impleu e cun patente.
In Moscovia tale zente
Si mandat a sa Siberia,
Pro chi morza' de miseria,
Perō no pro guvernare.
35
They send us the rascals,
As to punish and amend them,
With salary and pension,
With employment and letters patent.
In Moscovia such people
Is sent to Siberia,
As to let them die of poverty,
Not to let them govern at all!
Intantu in s'Isula nostra
Numerosa giuventude
De talentu e de virtude
Oziosa la lassāna:
E si alguna nd'impleanāna
Chircaian su pius tontu,
Pro chi lis torrat a contu
Cun zente zega a trattare.
36
Meanwhile, in our island
Plenty of talented and
Worthy youth
Are kept idle;
If somebody were to be employed,
The dullest one would be hired,
As it is most handy for them
To deal with clueless people.
Si in impleos subalternos
Algunu Sardu avanzāda
In regalos no bastāda
Su mesu de su salariu,
Mandare fi' nezessariu
Caddos de casta a Turinu,
E bonas cassas de binu,
Canonau e malvasia.
37
If a low-ranking Sardinian
Civil Servant got promoted,
He would have to give away
More than half his wage, as
He would have to send
Purebreed horses to Turin,
And crates of good wine,
Cannonau and Malvasia.
Tirare a su Piemonte
Sa prata nostra e i s'oro
Es de su governu insoro
Massima fundamentale.
Su Regnu, ande' bene o male,
No lis importa niente,
Antis, creen incumbeniente
Lassarelu prosperare.
38
Taking to Piedmont
Our gold and silver
Is the basic pursuit
Of their government.
Be the Kingdom in good or poor shape,
They don't care of it;
Rather, they deem harmful
Letting it thrive.
S'Isula hat arruinadu
Custa razza de bastardos;
Sos pivilegios sardos
Issos nos hana leadu,
Da e sos Archivios furadu
Nos hana sa mezzus pezzas,
E che iscritturas bezzas
L'has hana fatta' bruiare.
39
This breed of bastards
Has ruined our Island;
They have repealed
The Sardinian privileges,
And also stolen the best papers
From our Archives.
As if they were useless waste
They had them burned.
De custu flagellu, in parte,
Deus nos ha' liberadu;
Sos Sardos ch'hana 'ogadu
Custu dannosu inimigu;
E tue li ses amigu,
O sardu Barone indignu;
E tue ses in s'impignu
De nde lu fagher torrare!
40
God has, partly, delivered us
Of such a plague;
The Sardinians have driven out
This harmful foe;
But you, unworthy Sardinian Baron,
Are his friend;
And you have pledged
To make him come back!
Pro custu, iscaradamente,
Preigas pro Piemonte,
Falzu! Chi portas in fronte
Su marcu de traitore;
Fizas tuas tant'honore
Faghent a su furisteri,
Mancari sia' basseri,
Basta chi Sardu no sia'.
41
This is why you shamelessly
Praise the Piedmont,
Liar! As you bear the traitor's
Hallmark in your forehead;
Your daughters love and
Cherish the foreigners,
Even the potty-washers,
As they are not Sardinians.
S'accas'andas a Turinu,
Inie basare dčs
A su Ministru sos pes,
E ater su ..., giā m'intendes,
Pro ottenner su chi pretendes
Bendes sa patria tua,
E procuras forsi a cua
Sos Sardos iscreditare.
42
If you chance to go to Turin,
Here you have to kiss
The Minister's feet,
And even his ... - you know!
To obtain what you demand
You sell your land
And perhaps you stealthily attempt
To discredit the Sardinians!
Sa buscia lassas inie,
Et in premiu nde torras
Una rughitta in pettorras,
Unu giae in su traseri;
Pro fagher su quarteri
Sa domo has arruinadu,
E titulu has acchistadu
De traitore e ispia.
43
You leave your purse there,
And you are presented with
A petty cross to pin to your chest,
And a key to hang to your butt;
To build a barrack
You have depleted your home,
And you have got the title
Of traitor and Spy!
Su Chelu no lassa' sempre
Sa malissia triunfare;
Su mundu dee' reformare
Sas cosas ch'andana male;
Su sistema feudale
Non pode' durare meda,
Custu bender pro moneda
Sos Pobulos, dee' sensare.
44
The Heaven won't leave
Malice win forever;
The World has to reform
What goes wrong;
Feudalism
Won't last long.
Such selling Peoples
For money has to stop.
S'homine chi s'impostura
Haia' giā degradadu,
Pare' chi a s'antigu gradu
Alzare cherfa' de nou;
Pare' chi su rangu sou
Pretenda s'humanidade ...
Sardos mios, ischidade
E sighide custa ghia.
45
The man debased
By his deceit
Is apparently trying
To get his ancient dignity back;
It seems that his rank
Is claiming its share of humanity ...
Dear Sardinians, beware
And follow this lead!
Custa, pobulos, e' s'ora
D'estirpare sos abusos!
A terra sos malos usos,
A terra su dispotismu!
Gherra, gherra a s'egoismu,
E gherra a sos oppressores,
Custos tirannos minores
Es prezisu umiliare.
46
Peoples, it's high time
To eradicate all abuses!
Down with the bad uses,
Down with despotism!
Fight, fight to selfishness,
And war against oppressors:
These petty tyrants
Deserve their humiliation!
Si no, calchi die a mossu
Bo nde segade' su didu:
Como ch'e' su filu ordidu
A bois toccat a tessere;
Minzi chi poi det essere
Tardu s'arrepentimentu;
Cando si tene' su bentu
Es prezisu bentulare.
47
If you don't, sooner or later you'll
Bite your fingers to cut them off:
Now that the thread is warped,
You have to weave;
Look out, as it may be
Too late to repent:
When there is wind you only
Have the chance to thresh!
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
(Translated by Raffaele Ladu)
Su Patriottu Sardu a sos Feudatarios - The Sardinian Patriot Tells the Feudatories
Testu Sardu # English Translation
Procurad'e moderare,
Barones, sa tirannia,
Chi si no, pro vida mia,
Torrades a pe' in terra!
Declarada e' giā sa gherra
Contra de sa prepotenzia,
e cominza' sa passienzia
In su pobulu a mancare.
01
Try and moderate,
Barons, your tyranny,
Otherwise, I swear upon my life,
You will be knocked down!
The war against arrogance
Has already been declared,
And the people's patience
Is going to run out!
Mirade ch'est'azzendende
Contra de 'ois su fogu;
Mirade chi no e' giogu
Chi sa cosa andat 'e veras;
Mirade chi sas aeras
Minnettana temporale;
Zente consizzada male,
Iscultade sa 'oghe mia.
02
Look out, as it is lightning
A fire at you;
Look out, it is not kidding,
It is acting seriously!
Look out, as the climate
Is getting stormy!
Ill-advised people,
Listen to my speech!
No apprettedas s'isprone
A su poveru runzinu,
Si no in mesu caminu
S'arrempellat appuradu;
Minzi ch'es lanzu e cansadu
E no nde pode' piusu;
Finalmente a fundu in susu
S'imbastu nd'hat a bettare.
03
Don't sink your spur
Into your poor nag,
Or in the midway hewill
Gets frisky and flares up!
Look out: he is lean and weary
and can't bear it anymore!
He eventually will turn
The yoke upside down!
Su pobulu chi in profundu
Letargu fi' sepultadu,
Finalmente despertadu,
S'abbizza' chest in cadena,
Ch'ista' suffrende sa pena
De s'indolenzia antiga:
Feudu, legge inimiga
A bona filosofia.
04
The people that was in deep
Lethargy buried,
Awaken at last
Notices itself chained,
Bearing the punishment
Of its ancient indolence:
Feudalism, a concept clashing
with any rational law.
Che ch'esseret una inza,
Una tanca, unu cunzadu,
Sas biddas hana donadu
De regalu o a bendissione;
Comente unu cumone
De bestias Berveghinas
Sos homines e femėnas
Han bendidu cun sa cria.
05
As if they were a vineyard,
An estate or a hamlet,
The townships have given them,
As gifts or for a song,
As if they were
A flock of sheep,
Men and women were so sold
with their offspring.
Pro pagas mizas de liras,
E tale olta pro niente,
Isclavas eternamente
Tantas pobulassiones,
E migliares de persones
Servint a unu tiranu.
Poveru generu humanu,
Povera sarda zenia!
06
For a few thousand Lire,
End sometimes for nothing,
Eternally slave several
Peoples were made,
And thousands people
Now serve a tyrant.
Poor humankind,
Poor Sardinian people!
Deghe o doighi familias
S'han partidu sa Sardigna,
De una manera indigna
Si nde sun fattas pobiddas;
Divididu s'han sas biddas
In sa zega antighidade:
Perō sa presente edade
Lu pensat rimediare.
07
Ten or twelve families
Have shared out Sardinia,
In a shameful way
They became its lords;
They shared out the towns
In the blind old times,
But the present era
Is going to amend it.
Nasche' su Sardu soggettu
A milli cumandamentos:
Tributos e pagamentos
Chi faghet a su Segnore
In bestiamen e laore
In dinari e in natura;
E paga' pro sa pastura,
E paga' pro laorare.
08
A Sardininan is born subject
To thousand duties,
Tributes and payments
To be given to his Lord,
In cattle and corn,
In money and goods;
He pays for the meadow,
He pays also to plough.
Meda innantis de sos feudos
Esistiana sas biddas,
Et issas fini pobiddas
De saltos e biddattones.
Comente a bois, Barones,
Sa cosa anzena es passada?
Cuddu chi bos l'ha' dada
Non bos la podia' dare.
09
Long before the Fiefs
There were the Townships,
Which were masters
Of woods and country.
How could it be, Barons, that somebody
Else's estate was conveyed to you?
Those who gave it to you
Were not entitled to!
No es mai presumibile
Chi voluntariamente
Happa' sa povera zente
Zedidu a tale derettu;
Su titulo ergo est'infettu,
De infeudassione,
E i sas biddas reione
Tenen de l'impugnare.
10
It is preposterous to assume
That poor people willingly
Conveyed such land rights!
The titles are therefore
Objectionable
Due to infeudation,
And the townships are right
In challenging them!
Sas tassas in su prinzipiu
Esigiazis limitadas,
Dae pustis sun andadas
Ogni die aumentende,
A misura chi crescende
Sezis andados in fastu,
A misura chi in su gastu
Lassezis s'economia.
11
In the beginning you levied
Only a few taxes,
But then they kept
Rising every day
According to the growth
In your luxury,
According to the dwindling
Of your spareness.
No bos balet allegare
S'antiga possessione;
Cun minettas de presone,
Cun castigos e cun penas,
Cun zippos e cun cadenas,
Sos poveros ignorantes,
Derettos esorbitantes
Hazis forzadu a pagare.
12
It is worthless to claim
Your ancient possession:
By threats with jail,
By punishments and penalties,
By stumps and chains,
The ignorant poors
Were forced to pay
Exorbitant duties.
A su mancu s'impleerent
In mantenner sa giustissia,
Gastighende sa malissia
De sos malos de su logu;
A su mancu disaogu
Sos bonos poterant tenner,
Poterant andare e benner
Seguros per i sa via.
13
If only had they been used
To keep the King's Peace,
By punishing the malice
Of the felons among us:
At least the goodies
Could feel relieved,
And safe could they
come and go their way.
Es cussu s'unicu fine
De ogni tassa e derettu,
Chi seguru, e chi chiettu
Sutta sa legge si vivat;
De custu fine nos privat
Su Barone pro avarissia.
In sos gastos de giustissia
Faghe' solu economia.
14
It is the only goal
Of any tax or duty:
That safe and quiet anybody
Abiding by the law may live;
But of such a goal we are
Deprived by the Baron's avarice:
He only spares the
Justicial expenses!
Su primu chi si presentat
Si nominat offisiale,
Fatta' bene o fatta' male
Basta non chirche' salariu:
Procuradore o Notariu,
O camareri o lacaju,
Sia' murru o sia' baju,
E' bonu pro guvernare.
15
The first comer
Is appointed "officer",
Be it a good or bad doer, it's
Enough that he doesn't seek a pay:
Attorney or notary,
Waiter or lackey,
Be it Black or White,
He is deemed good to govern.
Basta chi preste sa manu
Pro fagher crescher sa rčnta,
Basta' chi fatta' cuntenta
Sa buscia de su Segnore;
Chi aggiuet a su fattore
A crobare prontamente,
E s'algunu es renitente
Chi l'iscat esecutare.
16
It is enough that he does something
To raise the rent;
It is enough that he has
His Lord's Purse replenished;
That he helps the farm manager
To swiftly collect his duties,
And if somebody is reluctant,
That he is able to shake him down!
A boltas, de podattariu,
Guverna' su cappellanu
Sas biddas cun una manu
Cun s'attera sa dispensa.
Feudatariu, pensa,
Chi sos vassallos non tener
Solu pro crescher sos benes,
Solu pro l'iscorzare.
17
At times, as a vassal, it is
The chaplain who governs
The towns with a hand,
And his pantry with the other.
Feudatory, think
That you don'k keep vassals
To increase your wealth,
Only to skin them!
Su patrimoniu, sa vida,
Pro difender, su villanu
Con sas armas a sa manu
Chere' ch'iste' notte e die;
Giā ch'hat a esser gasie,
Proite tantu tributu?
Si non si nd'hat haer fruttu
Es locura su pagare.
18
To defend your estate, your life,
You force the villein
To stand weapons-in-hand
Day and night;
As things run as such,
Why so harsh a tribute?
If you don't get a profit,
It is foolish to pay.
Si su Barone non faghet
S'obligassione sua,
Vassallu, de parte tua,
A nudda ses obbligadu;
Sos derettos ch'ha' crobadu
In tantos annos passados,
Sunu dinaris furados
E ti los deve' torrare.
19
If the Baron doesn't perform
What he is bound to,
Vassal, you are
Bound to nothing!
The duties he has collected
In so many years
Are stolen money,
And he has to pay you back!
Sas rentas servini solu
Pro mantenner cicisbeas,
Pro carrozzas e livreas,
Pro inutiles servissios,
Pro alimentare sos vissios,
Pro giogare a sa bassetta,
E pro poder sa braghetta
Fora de domo isfogare.
20
The rents are only used
To maintain sluts,
To buy coaches and liveries,
To get useless services,
To encourage vice,
To play "bassetta",
And to be able to vent
Your lust far from home!
Pro poder tenner piattos,
Bindighi e vinti in sa mesa,
Pro chi potta' sa marchesa
Sempre andare in portantina;
S'iscarpa istrinta, mischina,
La faghet andare a toppu,
Sas pedras punghene troppu
E non pode' camminare.
21
To have fifteen or twenty dishes
Cooked for your meal,
To allow the marchioness to be
Always carried in sedan chair:
Her tight shoes force
Her to limp, poor lady;
Stones hurt too much,
So she can't walk!
Pro una littera solu
Su vassallu, poverinu,
Faghe' dies de caminu
A pe', senz'esser pagadu,
Mesu iscurzu e isporzadu,
Espostu a dogni inclemenzia;
Eppuru tene' passienzia,
Eppuru deve'cagliare.
22
For just a letter,
The poor vassal
Has to travel for several days,
Tirelessly walking, without pay,
Ill-shod and barely dressed,
Exposed to bad-weather;
But he is patient,
He ought to hush.
Ecco comente s'implea
De su poveru su suore!
Comente, Eternu Segnore,
Suffrides tanta ingiustissia?
Bois, Divina Giustissia,
Remediade sas cosas,
Bois, da ispinas, rosas
Solu podides bogare.
23
Behold how it is used
The poor man's sweat!
How could you, Eternal Lord,
Bear so blatant an injustice?
You, Divine Justice, pray,
Amend such things!
Only you can turn
Thorns into roses!
O poveros de sas biddas,
Trabagliade, trabagliade
Pro mantenner in zittade
Tantos caddos de istalla,
A bois lassan sa palla,
Issos regoglin su ranu:
E pensan sero e manzanu
Solamente a ingrassare.
24
O poors living in town,
You are working, you keep working
To maintain in town
These stable horses;
You are left with the stalk,
They collect the corn;
And from morning to evening
They only think to getting fat.
Su Segnor Feudatariu
A sas undighi si pesa':
Da e su lettu a sa mesa,
Da e sa mesa a su giogu:
E pustis, pro disaogu
Andat a cicisbeare;
Giompid'a iscurigare:
Teatru, ballu, allegria.
25
The Feudal Lord
Wakes up at eleven;
He strolls from the bed to the table,
From the eating to the gambling table;
Then, as a sport,
He begins flirting.
As dusk approaches,
He goes to theatre, ball, merrymaking.
Cantu differentemente
Su vassallu passa' s'ora!
Innantis de s'aurora
Giā es bessidu in campagna;
Bentu o nie in sa muntagna,
In su paris, sole ardente.
O poverittu! Comente
Lu podet agguantare?
26
How differently
The vassal spends his time!
Before dawn
He has already gone to country;
Be wind or snow in mountain,
Or hot weather as well.
Poor mite! How
Can he bear all that?
Cun su zappu e cun s'aradu
Pelea' tota sa die;
A ora de mesu die
Si ziba' de solu pane.
Mezzus paschidu e' su cane
De su Barone, in zittade,
S'es' de cudda calidade
Chi in falda solen portare.
27
With hoe and plough
He struggles the whole day;
At midday
He can only eat bread.
Better eats the
Baron's dog in town,
If it belongs to
The lap-dogs breed.
Timende chi si reforment
Disordines tantos mannos,
Cun manizzos et ingannos
Sas Cortes hana impediu;
Et isperdere han cherfidu
Sos patrizios pius zelantes,
Nende chi fin petulantes
E contra sa Monarchia.
28
Fearing that so serious disorders
Would have eventually been reformed,
They barred the Court's action
With plots and lies;
And they had disbanded
The most zealous patricians,
Under the pretence of petulance
And plotting against the King.
Ai cuddos ch'in favore
De sa patria han peroradu,
Chi s'ispada hana 'ogadu
Pro sa causa comune,
O a su tuju sa fune
Cherian ponner, meschinos!
O comente a Giacobinos
Los cherian massacrare.
29
Those who pleaded
Our country's cause,
Those who unsheathed the
Sword for our common sake,
Were to be hung to
The gallows, poor heros!
Or to be massacred
Like Jacobins!
Perō su Chelu ha' difesu
Sos bonos visibilmente,
Atterradu ha' su potente,
Ei s'umile esaltadu.
Deus, chis 'es declaradu
Pro custa patria nostra,
De ogn'insidia bostra
Isse nos hat a salvare.
30
But Heaven has clearly
Defended the Goodies:
He brought down the mighties,
And raised the humble up!
God, who has pledged His
Support to our land,
Will save us from
Any of your snares.
Perfidu Feudatariu!
Pro interesse privadu
Protettore declaradu
Ses de su Piemontesu.
Cun issu ti fist'intesu
Cun meda fazilidade;
Isse pā pada in zittade,
E tue in bidda a porfia.
31
Treacherous Feudatory!
Your own interest
Made you the avowed
Protector of the Piedmontese!
You got even too
Well with him:
He gobbles up in city,
You follow suit in town.
Fi' pro sos Piemontesos
Sa Sardigna una cuccagna;
Che in sas Indias s'Ispagna
Issos incontrant inoghe;
Nos alzaia' sa 'oghe
Finzas unu camareri;
O plebeu o cavaglieri,
Si deviat umiliare.
32
Sardinia has always been a
Bonanza for the Piedmontese:
They feel here like
Spaniards in their Indies.
Even a waiter was allowed
To tell us off: had we been
Plebeians or knights,
We had to bow down.
Issos da e custa terra
Ch'hana 'ogadu miliones
Benian senza calzones
E si nd'andaian gallonados.
Mai ch'esserent istados
Chi ch'hana postu su fogu!
Malaitu cuddu logu,
Chi creia' tale zenia!
33
They have drawn millions
From our land!
They come bare-butted and
Went home covered with stripes.
We wish they had never come,
As they have plundered our land!
Cursed be the place
Which has begotten such a breed!
Issos inoghe incontrāna
Vantaggiosos imeneos
Pro issos fin sos impleos,
Pro issos fin sos onores,
Sas dignidades mazores
De cheia, toga e ispada:
E a su Sardu restāda
Una fune a s'impiccare.
34
They arrange exceedingly
Favourable weddings;
All the employments are for them,
For them are all the honours, and
All major dignities of
The Church, the Bench and the Sword:
To the Sardinian is only left
A rope for hanging himself to.
Sos disculos nos mandāna
Pro castigu e curressione,
Cun paga e cun pensione,
Cun impleu e cun patente.
In Moscovia tale zente
Si mandat a sa Siberia,
Pro chi morza' de miseria,
Perō no pro guvernare.
35
They send us the rascals,
As to punish and amend them,
With salary and pension,
With employment and letters patent.
In Moscovia such people
Is sent to Siberia,
As to let them die of poverty,
Not to let them govern at all!
Intantu in s'Isula nostra
Numerosa giuventude
De talentu e de virtude
Oziosa la lassāna:
E si alguna nd'impleanāna
Chircaian su pius tontu,
Pro chi lis torrat a contu
Cun zente zega a trattare.
36
Meanwhile, in our island
Plenty of talented and
Worthy youth
Are kept idle;
If somebody were to be employed,
The dullest one would be hired,
As it is most handy for them
To deal with clueless people.
Si in impleos subalternos
Algunu Sardu avanzāda
In regalos no bastāda
Su mesu de su salariu,
Mandare fi' nezessariu
Caddos de casta a Turinu,
E bonas cassas de binu,
Canonau e malvasia.
37
If a low-ranking Sardinian
Civil Servant got promoted,
He would have to give away
More than half his wage, as
He would have to send
Purebreed horses to Turin,
And crates of good wine,
Cannonau and Malvasia.
Tirare a su Piemonte
Sa prata nostra e i s'oro
Es de su governu insoro
Massima fundamentale.
Su Regnu, ande' bene o male,
No lis importa niente,
Antis, creen incumbeniente
Lassarelu prosperare.
38
Taking to Piedmont
Our gold and silver
Is the basic pursuit
Of their government.
Be the Kingdom in good or poor shape,
They don't care of it;
Rather, they deem harmful
Letting it thrive.
S'Isula hat arruinadu
Custa razza de bastardos;
Sos pivilegios sardos
Issos nos hana leadu,
Da e sos Archivios furadu
Nos hana sa mezzus pezzas,
E che iscritturas bezzas
L'has hana fatta' bruiare.
39
This breed of bastards
Has ruined our Island;
They have repealed
The Sardinian privileges,
And also stolen the best papers
From our Archives.
As if they were useless waste
They had them burned.
De custu flagellu, in parte,
Deus nos ha' liberadu;
Sos Sardos ch'hana 'ogadu
Custu dannosu inimigu;
E tue li ses amigu,
O sardu Barone indignu;
E tue ses in s'impignu
De nde lu fagher torrare!
40
God has, partly, delivered us
Of such a plague;
The Sardinians have driven out
This harmful foe;
But you, unworthy Sardinian Baron,
Are his friend;
And you have pledged
To make him come back!
Pro custu, iscaradamente,
Preigas pro Piemonte,
Falzu! Chi portas in fronte
Su marcu de traitore;
Fizas tuas tant'honore
Faghent a su furisteri,
Mancari sia' basseri,
Basta chi Sardu no sia'.
41
This is why you shamelessly
Praise the Piedmont,
Liar! As you bear the traitor's
Hallmark in your forehead;
Your daughters love and
Cherish the foreigners,
Even the potty-washers,
As they are not Sardinians.
S'accas'andas a Turinu,
Inie basare dčs
A su Ministru sos pes,
E ater su ..., giā m'intendes,
Pro ottenner su chi pretendes
Bendes sa patria tua,
E procuras forsi a cua
Sos Sardos iscreditare.
42
If you chance to go to Turin,
Here you have to kiss
The Minister's feet,
And even his ... - you know!
To obtain what you demand
You sell your land
And perhaps you stealthily attempt
To discredit the Sardinians!
Sa buscia lassas inie,
Et in premiu nde torras
Una rughitta in pettorras,
Unu giae in su traseri;
Pro fagher su quarteri
Sa domo has arruinadu,
E titulu has acchistadu
De traitore e ispia.
43
You leave your purse there,
And you are presented with
A petty cross to pin to your chest,
And a key to hang to your butt;
To build a barrack
You have depleted your home,
And you have got the title
Of traitor and Spy!
Su Chelu no lassa' sempre
Sa malissia triunfare;
Su mundu dee' reformare
Sas cosas ch'andana male;
Su sistema feudale
Non pode' durare meda,
Custu bender pro moneda
Sos Pobulos, dee' sensare.
44
The Heaven won't leave
Malice win forever;
The World has to reform
What goes wrong;
Feudalism
Won't last long.
Such selling Peoples
For money has to stop.
S'homine chi s'impostura
Haia' giā degradadu,
Pare' chi a s'antigu gradu
Alzare cherfa' de nou;
Pare' chi su rangu sou
Pretenda s'humanidade ...
Sardos mios, ischidade
E sighide custa ghia.
45
The man debased
By his deceit
Is apparently trying
To get his ancient dignity back;
It seems that his rank
Is claiming its share of humanity ...
Dear Sardinians, beware
And follow this lead!
Custa, pobulos, e' s'ora
D'estirpare sos abusos!
A terra sos malos usos,
A terra su dispotismu!
Gherra, gherra a s'egoismu,
E gherra a sos oppressores,
Custos tirannos minores
Es prezisu umiliare.
46
Peoples, it's high time
To eradicate all abuses!
Down with the bad uses,
Down with despotism!
Fight, fight to selfishness,
And war against oppressors:
These petty tyrants
Deserve their humiliation!
Si no, calchi die a mossu
Bo nde segade' su didu:
Como ch'e' su filu ordidu
A bois toccat a tessere;
Minzi chi poi det essere
Tardu s'arrepentimentu;
Cando si tene' su bentu
Es prezisu bentulare.
47
If you don't, sooner or later you'll
Bite your fingers to cut them off:
Now that the thread is warped,
You have to weave;
Look out, as it may be
Too late to repent:
When there is wind you only
Have the chance to thresh!
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