Happy Birthday Fabrizio De Andre

 

(Genoa, 18 February 1940 – Milan, 11 January 1999)

 

Pic: Elena Caldera

Country Crime

Flowers of evil aren’t just found
in the big cities and towns.
Of everyday murders there are a few
here in the country too.

Though all his hair had turned to gray,
his heart was still young and gay.
And once again it started to race
for a young pretty face.

But his desire proved too strong.
He didn’t last for long.
And so he spent his last youthfulness
with just a kiss and a caress.

When she held out her hand for pay
sadly he had to say,
that he was down on his luck and now poor.
She got her clothes from the floor.

And she made off in double time
to round up her partner in crime;
and they returned, the pimp and his bawd,
to the old stingy fraud.

Six times she stabbed him with her knife,
while her friend held him tight.
She stuck her tongue out at him, so they say,
as he was passing away.

Though they turned everything upside down,
nothing of worth they found,
just unpaid bills of various sorts
and some old legal reports.

Then regret took them by surprise,
recalling the old man’s cries,
and by the corpse they fell on their knees,
saying “forgive us, please.”

When the police at last appeared,
they found them both in tears.
Sorry they were, for having given
the old man a trip to heaven.

And it’s said that they flew among
the blessèd, once they were hung.
A few pious types were sorely incensed
over this turn of events.

Flowers of evil aren’t just found
in the big cities and towns.
Of everyday murders, there are a few
here in the country too.

 

Text: Fabrizio De André & Georges Brassens
English translation:  Simon J. Evnine


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