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OUR SONGS

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BACK TO THE CHORUS

Here is a directory of songs that might be listened to during one of our concerts. The authorís name is shown under each song, so that one can better understand the importance that songs composed by us have in our repertoire. Songs written by each of the tenores di Neoneli. Songs which we perform only in the NeonElio original production are not included.

SERENADA TRISTA

This is our concertsí opening song. A sonnet in which we synthesis the spirit with which our songs are sung. Rhythm to Sa seria and Passu torrau.

Como ti canto cun custu tenore
una cantone bella e atonada,
cust'istrumentu antigu, de valore,
faghet su ballu cun sa serenada.

De serenare animu no b'ada,
bella, perdona custu cantadore,
si ti cantat s'afannu e su dolore,
cun sa oghe melodica e atristada.

Cando in su mundu s'odiu e su piantu
suni dominadores in totýe,
non podet esser dulche custu cantu,
ma si regnat sa paghe e s'armonia,
comente lu cumprendes finas tue,
tando t'ap' a cantare s'allegria.

Tonino Cau

Sad serenade 

Now i will sing you, in this tenor, a beautiful, invigorating song, this antique, gallant instrument is good to dance or to make a serenade but there is no desire to serenade, my beautiful, forgive this singer if he sings you pain and anxiety with his melodic, saddened voice. Whilst the world is full of mate and weeping, my song cannot be sweet, but, as you'll understand, should peace and harmony rule i would sing cheerful songs.

 

SíInnu de su patriotu sardu a sos feudatarios  

Perhaps one of the most popular traditional Sardinian songs, better known as Barones sa tirannia, written by Francesco Ignazio Mannu of Ozieri in 1794 (or 1796, according to some researchers) to inveigh against the Piemonteseís feudal system who during that sad and dark period, humiliated Sardinia and itís inhabitants. The hymn consist of 47 strophes each with 8 verses (eight syllables). We published the first ten and the last, together with the poetic translation that Nuoresean Sebastiano Satta wrote in ďLa Nuova SardegnaĒ newspaper, in occasion of this centenary hymn. Various rhythms (a ballu tundu, a gocios, a ballu cantau)

(the first ten strophe)

Procurad''e moderare,
Barones, sa tirannia,
Chi si no, pro vida mia,
Torrades a pe' in terra!
Declarada e' giŗ sa gherra
Contra de sa prepotenzia,
E cominza' sa passienzia
In su pobulu a faltare.

Mirade chi est azzendende
Contra de 'ois su fogu,
Mirade chi no e' giogu,
Chi sa cosa andat 'e veras;
Mirade chi sas aeras
Minettana temporale;
Zente consizzada male,
Iscultade sa oghe mia.

No appretedas s'isprone
A su poveru ronzinu,
Si no in mesu caminu
S'arrempellat appuradu;
Minzi ch'es lanzu e cansadu
E non de pode' piusu;
Finalmente a fundu in susu
S'imbastu nd'hat a bettare.

Su pobulu chi in profundu
Letargu fi' sepultadu
Finalmente despertadu
S'abbizza ch'est in cadena,
Ch'ista' suffrende sa pena
De s'indolenzia antiga:
Feudu, legge inimiga
A bona filosofia.

Che ch'esseret una inza
Una tanca, unu cunzadu,
Sas biddas hana donadu
De regalu a bendissione;
Comente unu cumone
De bestias berveghinas
Sos homines e feminas
Han bendidu cun sa cria.

Pro pagas mizas de liras,
E tale olta pro niente,
Isclavas eternamente
Tantas pobulassiones,
E migliares de persones
Servint a unu tirannu.
Poveru generu humanu
Povera Sarda Zenia!

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:
PerÚ sa presente edade
Lu pensat rimediare.

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.

Meda innantis de sos feudos
Esistiana sas biddas,
Et issas fini pobiddas
De saltos e biddatones.
Comente a bois, Barones,
Sa cosa anzena es passada?
Cuddu chi bos l'ha' dada
Non bos la podia' dare.

Non es mai presumibile
Chi voluntariamente
Happa' sa povera zente
Zedidu a tale derettu;
Su titulu 'ergo est infettu
De infeudassione,
E i sas biddas reione
Tenen de l'impugnare....

....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.

Francesco Ignazio Mannu

The sardinian patriot against the feudatory hymn

Baron, try to stop tyranny, otherwise you will tumble to the ground for my life! War has been declared against arrogance, and the people are beginning to loose their patience. Watch outí fire is burning into flame against you, all this is not a game, itís real; think that the black sky threatens a storm; people pushed into doing bad, listen to my voice spur no more the poor donkey, or we will stop stubbornly half way; he is to cramped to go on, and finally he must throw  off his pack-saddle.

The folk, from a deep, obscure hibernation, feels totally despaired, they feel their chains, they know they must suffer the pain of antique indolence feud, enemy law and all good things!

It seems like a vineyard or an olive grove or an enclosure, they have consumed villages and land, they gave them and exchanged them like a herd of iil-bred sheep, man and children sold with their wives. They have made the entire population slaves, for little money and sometimes for nothing, thousands and thousands of people bowing to a sovereign miserable human beings, miserable Sardinian race!

Few families unworthily left Sardinian, and our beautiful land was to make up for what happened then. A Sardinian is born, subject to a king, commandments, he must give tributes and payments to the sovereign: cattle, corn, money and nature; he pays for pasture, he pays to sew seeds.

Even before the feuds, the villages flowered delightfully with fields, vineyards, pine trees and sheaves; now like you, barons, is all of this over? He who gave it to you, couldnít give it to you. No one can infer that many poor people willingly through themselves down before you; your titles smell of infeudation, the villains have good reason to rebel ...

...Those who remained still one day, didnít dare to bite their finger, now that the cloth is warred give a hand to heave. Later, you could one day show repentance, when the wind gets up and needs to trash.

 

FINAS A CANDO?

A song on the enviroment, a series of worried "I don't knows" with regards the destiny of some of our rare enviromental pearls which fortunately still withstand on our island.

No isco si sa gent'orrubia
in su Sinis ancora at a olae,
no isco si pische in su mare
e in pischŤra si nd'at a piscae.

FINAS A CANDO AP'A PORTAE
ALIDU IN CORPUS PO CANTAE,
CANTIGOS DE CUSTA GENIA
AP'A CANTAE CUN SA OGHE MIA.

No isco si in su cumonale
linna ancora si nd'at a agatae,
no isco si in su Campidanu
terras fertiles ant a bundae.

No isco si su mare nostu
bellu e limpiu ancora at a abbarrae,
no isco si in su Supramonte
buscos innidos ant a urae.

No isco si cuaddos in Giara
chentinaias si nd'at a contae,
no isco si in sas forestas
mruvas e crebos aus a amirae.

No isco si in sas funtanas
abbas puras aus a bufae
no isco si sas saborias
frutas de monte aus a papae.

No isco si s'isula bella
nessi che a oe t'as a cunservae.

FINAS A CANDO AP'A PORTAE
ALIDU IN CORPUS PO CANTAE,
CANTIGOS DE CUSTA GENIA,
AP'A CANTAE CUN SA OGHE MIA,
CANTIGOS DE CUSTA GENIA
AP'A CANTAE ANCORA O GENTE MIA.

Tonino Cau

Until when?

I donít now if the flamingoes will still fly over Sinis, I donít now if will we still find fish in the sea and at the fishmongers.

AS LONG AS MY BODY HAS BREATH TO SING, I WILL SING SONGS LIKE THIS WITH MY VOICE.

I donít now if there will still be firewood for everyone on the common land, I donít now if Campidano will have plenty of fertile land. I donít now if are sea will remain beautiful and clean, I donít now if the Supramonteís virgin forest last. I donít now if we will still be able to count the Giaraís ponies in hundreds, I donít now if we will still admire wild boar and mouflons in the forests. I donít now if we will still drink pure water from the fountains, I donít now if we will still eat the countryís tasty fruit. I donít now if it will continue to be the beautiful island, as it is today.

AS LONG AS MY BODY HAS BREATH TO SING, I WILL SING SONGS LIKE THIS WITH MY VOICE, I WILL STILL SING SONGS LIKE THIS, MY PEOPLE.

ZIU MEU

A song about the older generation, taken from a true story. Rhythm Passu Ďe trese.

Poberu ziu meu,
de custa via ite nd'has gosadu?
Ti che ses imbezzadu
patinde, cun piantu e cun anneu,
semper preghende a Deus
de non restare solu, abbandonadu,
invece ses fiudu,
senza unu cane pro ti dare azzudu.

Ca s'emigrazione
fizos tuos han devidu affrontare,
e mancu a mandigare
ti bastat cussa misera pensione,
sa debile persone
giughet sos sinnos de su tribulare,
de cando ses naschidu,
e pro tottu su male chi has bidu.

Tonino Cau

My uncle

Poor uncle, what have enjoyed in life? You have grown old suffering from anxiety, in tears, always praying to god not to be left alone, and instead youíre a widow and not even a dog gives you a hand. Because your sons had to emigrate and your pension isnít sufficient even to feed you, your weak body shows signs of suffering since when you where born, caused by all the troubles.

 

A GAVINU

A song dedicated to our friend Gavino, of Osilo, an extremely talented man who is compelled to a wheel-chair due to a congenital physical handicap rhythm to Passu Ďe trese.

Pesadinde, Gavinu,
e pesa, ahiÚ, ite faghes gasže ?
Gioga liberu, e rie,
cun sos pizzinnos, fora, in su caminu,
lassa cussu tražnu,
ca b'est sa vida ch'isettad'a tie,
leŗdi unu cunsolu,
bae in s'aŤra, che puzone in bolu.

Beru ca ses cravadu
sena poder chinnire sa carena,
e supportas sa pena
cun sa passienzia de unu biadu,
ma sa mente serena,
nessi cussa sa sorte t'hat lassadu.
E has astru 'e poesia
e sensibilidade e fantasia.

Tonino Cau

 To Gavino

Get up Gavino, be brave, what are you doing? Play i freedom and laugh with the children, outside in the street, leave your wheelchair behind, life is waiting for you, satisfy yourself and fly like a bird in the sky. Itís true you are immobilised and you canít move your body, you bear your pain with the patience of a saint, but at least destiny has left you calm in your mind. And you have the gift of poetry and lots of sensibility and imagination.

AMORE LONTANU

A delicate love song, in this case between two people compelled to live fair away from each other due to emigration. He works abroad and canít wait to return to his country forever, to live with his promised bride. Rhythm attained from the religious tradition, such as Gocios de Chida santa.

Pensende jŗ sÚ a tie
recreu 'e s'anima mia,
su coro est fritu che nie
ca non t'apo in cumpanzia.

Non timas prenda 'e oro
si como non m'as presente,
ca t'apo sempre in sa mente
ti juto sempre in su coro.

Sas oras parente dies,
sas dies annos intreos,
e pianghen sos ojos meos
mancari chi non los bies.

Eo non de bio s'ora
de nos torrare a unire,
ca non cherzo pius sufrire
pensende a tie chi ses fora.

Es' dolorosu pro me
ancora a biver lontanu,
ti cherzo istringher sa manu
e biver sempre cun te.

AnghŤla, eo cherža,
eternamente restare
acanta e te' pro ti amare
pro tota sa vida mia.

Tonino Cau

Distant love

Iím thinking of you, the comfort of my soul, my heart is cold like snow because you arenít with me. Donít worry, my golden pearl, if we arenít together at the moment, because you ale always in my heart and on my mind. The hours seem like days and the days seem like years and my eyes cry, even though you canít see them. I canít wait for the moment when we will be together once more, because I donít want to suffer any more thinking of you outside of the country. It is painful for me to live far away, I want to hold your hand and live with you forever. Angela, I want to stay with you eternally and love you for all of my life.

 

A BALLU A BALLU

A song dedicated to those fond of Sardinian traditions, especially those fond of the ballu sardu dancers. Rhythm: to Ballu tzopu.

 

A ballu, a ballu, su balladore
lassat a parte su malumore,
a ballu, a ballu, sa ballariana,
de si divertet gia' tenet gana.
Peppeloisu, su pesadore,
cantat a ballu cun su tenore.
Giughend'in buca sa trunfa sola
sonant a ballu Ivo e Nicola,
e calincunu ballu cantau
cantat a bortas Tonino Cau.

Tonino Cau

To dance, to dance

The male dancer looses his bad mood dancing, the female dancer wants to enjoy herself dancing. Pelleloisu, the soloist, sings and dances with the choir, Ivo e Nicola play and dance with a Jew harp in their mouths, and Tonino Cau sometimes sings a dancing song.

EPURU ANDAT

It speaks of time and itís fast and ruthless rush, which devours everything on itís way, fortunately leaving the memory, which man needs in order to carry on, to live. Music similar to Ave Maria of rosaries typical of the procession.

Tempus chi andas, currende abbia,
e chi in s'andare che leas totu,
siat eretu o siat trotu,
totu che mundas in d'una ia,
ma sa memoria resistit, bia,
e restat nessi, de su connotu,
s'ammentu in conca, bene imprimidu,
cussu su tempus non l'at bochidu.

EPURU ANDAT, EPURU ANDAT,
EPURU ANDAT E SIGHIT A ANDARE.

E passat nie, abba cun bentu,
fogu, sicagna e astraÚre,
pestas e gherras de ogni colore,
dies de gosu e de turmentu,
e terremotos, inquinamentu,
disamistades, prantu e dolore.
Gai su tempus sighit a andare
ma sa memoria at a restare.

Tonino Cau

And it still goes on

Time it goes, always rushing and which devours everything as it passes, right things and wrong things, you sweep everything away in one go, but the memory resists, alive and least a memory of the past remains, well imprinted, this time has not killed.

And still it goes, and still it goes and continues to go.

And snow, rain and wind fire, ice and draught, plagues and war of every kind pass, days of joy and of torment, and earthquakes pollution, extermination, crying and pain. Times continue to go ahead likes this but the memory will remain.

AMISTADE

It means ďbrotherhoodĒ, ďbenevolenceĒ, exactly the opposite to cease to love, obviously. Rhythm: a Ballu cantau or a Ballu tundu a tenore.

 

AMISTADE, AMISTADE,
CHERES, TERRA ISSAMBENADA
DE SARDIGNA, E FUNESTADA
DE TANTA BARBARIDADE.
O Sardigna, t'an pienu
su coro, prupas e venas,
cun sas mortales cadenas
de odiu e de velenu,
dae su tempus serenu
tue ses abbandonada.

De omicidios e de furas
intendimus ogni die,
ma suni bochinde a tie
totu custas isventuras,
e sas persones, seguras,
no andan mancu in s'istrada.

A sos aministradores
los isparan a s'ischina,
ancora non b'at meghina
contra sos sequestradores,
chi si cherene sennores
cun cosa anzena furada.

Chi si peset unu entu
chi che mundet su machine
dae conca 'e ogni omine,
e ogni brutu sentimentu
sichet dae fundamentu
che sa terra abbrujada.

Si su male e su terrore
cun sos malos, tot'a pare,
non resessin a firmare,
as a perder cudd'onore:
d'esser terra de valore
in totýe lumenada.

Tonino Cau

Amisty
Amisty, amisty, do you want Sardinia bloodshed by lots of barbarousness. Oh Sardinia, they have filled your heart, flesh and blood, with mortal chains of hate and poison, and the calm weather abandoned you. We hear theft and killing spoken of every day. But these misfortunes are killing you, and people canít even walk the streets safely. They shoot administrators in the back and we still donít see a solution to the sequesters who what to be gentlemen by robbing others. That we can make a wind capable of  blowing away madness from menís heads rise, and which drys the roots of bad will from foundation, just like burnt land is dry. If evil and fear together the authors, canít stop, we will loose the honour of being nominated as valued land.

 

SU BALLU 'E SU FOGU

The fire dance. A song known all over Sardinia and sung by many other artists. No need to beat about the bush: we speak of fire we curse the pyromans. Rhythm: a Ballu cantau (with trunfa, launeddas, accordion, triangle) the final to gocios. Monodic song perhaps one of the Neoneli choirs most well known songs. Some one has said that the compositionís value is equal to Barones sa tirannia others Ballata di Pratobello. However, it is well loved.

LOS AN FALADOS A FOGUSOS MONTES DE IDDA MIA
A CRABONE ALLUTU EBBIA
AN REDUIDU SU LOGU.
 
In s'ierru s'astraÚretotu cantu at ruinadu
sa pastura nd'at sicadu
at distrutu su laÚre,cussu nordicu rigore
at batidu annada mala,
e arrivan da ogn'ala
lamentos de carestža. 
In s'istžu est arrivadasa desertica sicagna,
mancu s'aria de muntagna
podet esser respirada,
e sa zente est ispantada
de ider cussu sicore,
cun totu custu calore
parimus in Algerža. 
Epuru b'at zente indignachi a su male azunghet male,
cun d'un'ira criminale
at brusiadu sa Sardigna,
razza perfida, maligna,
sa chisina at semenadu,
in Barbagia, in Barigadu,
Nurra, Sulcis, Baronža. 
Impunidos sos balentessa natura sun bochinde,
a desertu reduinde,
suni tancas e padentes,
cussos crobos puzzolentes,
cheren totu avvelenare,
los devimus isolare
che canes peri sa ia.
 
Los devian cundennarea brusiare lentamente,
subra su crabone ardente,
finas a si ch'istudare,
in manera chi proŗrepotan cussu bellu giogu,
in manera chi in su fogu
lassen sa piromania.
 
Como azis totu brusiadue tantas vidas distrutu,
como chi azis allutu
su irde chi fit restadu,
ite azis balanzadu
ischifosos assassinos ?
Miserabiles cainos,
morzedas in agonža ! 
Poberitos innozentes,miserina cussa sorte
ohi, ite cudrele morte
sos cudreles bos han dadu,
in piantu hana lassadu
isposas, mamas e fizos,
a pagare sos fastizos
de cussa zega manža. 
De su rimorsu in su lettunon potana reposare,
e in cella a frazigare,
los lassene a abba e pane,
arrabbiados chei su cane
chi sian de su dolore,
infines unu puntore
chi nd'isperdat sa zenža. 
Sardigna, terra brusiada,terra 'e fogu e de afannos,
non permitas custos dannos,
lassa istare su sufrire,
impresse faghe fužredisonestos e foghistas,
chi t'an semper, egoistas,
ispulpadu sende bža. 
Tonino Cau -luglio 83

The fire dance
They have burnt my country mountains, leaving only scorching coals. Winterís freezing cold has ruined everything dried our pastures and destroyed are sowing, that severe northerner caused a bad year and cries of famine came from everywhere. Then with summer the desert draught arrived and even the mountain air was unbreathable, people were truly amazed to see such a drought, with that heat it seemed like being in Algeria. And yet for worthless people it gets worse: Sardinia is burning with criminal rage, a wicked, malicious breed, they planted the ashes in Barbagia, Barigadu, Nurra, Sulcis, Baronia. Unpunished, hooligans are killing nature, turning many forests into desert, those stinking crows want to poison everything, like stray dogs we will have to isolate them. We should sentence them to burn slowly over burning coals, until putting them out, so that leave piromancy in the fire. They have burnt my countryís mountains, leaving only burning coals. Now you have burnt everything, and destroyed many lives, now that you have turned the surviving green to ashes, what have you earnt? Miserable murderers, I hope you die in agony. Poor innocent ones, our destiny is miserable, what a cruel death those cruel ones gave you, you have left fathers mothers and children crying, to pay for the troubles caused by that blind madness. I hope that remorse doesnít let you rest, and that you are left to rot in a cell, on water and bread, that you are as angry as dogs, suffering, and final that an incurable illness exterminates your breed. Sardinia, burnt and sorrowed land, donít allow this damage any more, and stop suffering, let the dishonest and the pyromans who have egoistically burnt you alive flee quickly.

UNU SONNU

Mansí dream of peace: peace the songs tells of the years of Gorbaciov and Reagan. In the dream the two world leaders of their time sip some good Cannonau wine in the shade of a nuraghe, and talk of peace and a future without weapons. Rhythms: pastorella.

Irisero apo sonnau
su capu russu cun s'americanu,
e nan ca anta chistionau
de faer su bene a su genere umanu.
 
A SU MANCU CHI SIAT GAI:GHERRA DE NON DE BIER MAI.
DAE SA TERRA DE SU NURAGHE,
UNA FORTE OGHE DE PAGHE.
 
Bufando una tassa 'e inude gherra mancu nd'anta lumenau,
e naianta continu:
su mundu depet esser disarmau.
 
Est a cumbatter unioscontra sa gana e donzi maladia,
chi pozzanta sos pipios
biver e crescher in bona armonia.
 
Custu sonnu no est beruma realtade podet diventae,
mancu un'omine sinceru
prus cosa bella podet disigiae.
 
In totu su mundu intreusonnanta totus custu sonnu meu:
de s'istringhere sa manu
su capu russu cun s'americanu.
 
A SU MANCU CHI SIAT GAI... 
Tonino Cau

A dream

Yesterday I dreamt about the leaders of America and Russia and in my dream they spoke of the good of mankind.
At least if it was like that: never seeing war from the land of nuraghes a strong voice of peace.

Drinking a glass of wine, they continued to say that the world should be unarmed. We need to fight together against hunger and disease, so that our children can grow in harmony. This dream isnít real but it can become reality, even a sincere man couldnít wish for more. Everyone all over the world has this dream: that the Russian leader shakes hands with the American leader.

Bella mia... 

One of the few songs from traditional test, orally interhed. Rhythms: to passu torrau.

Bella mia non bandes a messare,
ca su sole ti leat sa bellesa,
abbaí si podest tenner finitesa,
finitesa Ďe ti porrer coiuare.
Bella mia non bandes a messare.

 
Popolare

My beauty
My beauty donít go to reap, because the sun could take away your beauty, try to get married promptly. My beauty donít go to reap.

 

Nanneddu meu

A letter to Nanni Sulis by Peppino Mereu, the grand poet of Tonara who died young. Only a few strophes are brought back.

Nanneddu meu, su mundu est gai
a sicut erat non torrat mai.
Semus in tempus de tirannia
infamidade e carestia,
como sos populos cascant che cane
gridande forte: cherimus pane.
Famidos nois semus papande,
pane e castanza e terra cun lande,
terra chi a fangu torrat su poberu
sena alimentu, sena ricoveru......
 
....Adiosu Nanni, tenedi a contufaghe su surdu, ghetadi a tontu
tanti lu ides: su mundu est gai,
a sicut erat non torrat mai.
 

A letter to Nanni Sulis
My little Johnny, the world is as it is, and it will never be like it was before. We live in times of tyranny, infamy and starvation, people lie like dogs, shouting at the top of their voices: we wnat bread. We are hungry and we eat bread and chestnuts, earth and acorns, earth that turns every poor man lacking food and shelter to mud .... God-bye, little Johnny, take care of yourself, pretend to be deaf and stupid, as it is you can see, the world is like that, and it will never be like it was before.

MA COMENTE?

A song, rhythm to sa seria, about the carelessness with which often we reject our past and our processorís lessons.

Ma comente si faet
a imentigae totu
finas a oe su chi ch'est istau ?
Forzis non nosi praghet
de su chi aus connotu
nudda chi pozzat esser amentau,
in peruna materia?
Solu gana e miseria,
tristura e male in su tempus passau?
Epuru du at cosas
chi depeus chistie, valorosas.

Prus unios fiaus
e prontos a agiudae
chie in apretu fiat, bisongiosu,
allirgos andaiaus
a monte a triballae
e de su pagu teniaus gosu,
sas festas s'intendiant
e totus ballaiant
dies intreas e sena reposu,
e in notes isteddadas
si faiant bellas serenadas.

Sa limba sarda fiat
de tottus foeddada
e rispetadas sas tradissiones,
sa campagna pariat
cun talentu pintada,
prena de cassighedda e de sirbones.
Oe a totu custu
non di leaus gustu,
sunti cambiaos tempos e persones,
e ainnanti andaus
imentigando comente fiaus.

Tonino Cau

But how?
How can we forget everything that has happened up until now? May be we donít like anything weíve sees, of any kind, that is worth remembering? Only misery and hunger, sadness and evil in the past? And yet there are valuable things which we should preserve. We were more united, and more willing to help the needy, we went to work happily in the fields and we were satisfied with very little, everybody enjoyed so much the festivals and danced, whole days without resting, and we held beautiful serenades under a clear, stary skies. Everybody spoke the Sardinian language and everbody respected traditions, the countryside seemed painted with artistic skill and it was populated with wildlife. Today we donít appreciate all that time and people have changed, and we go on forgetting how we once were.

 

DEUS TI SALVET MARIA

One of the most beautiful and truly renowned traditional sardinian folk songs on behalf of poor Maria Carta. The author is father Bonaventura Licheri, of Neoneli, author, as mentioned in other parts of this brochure, of innumerous prayers and hymns of praise dedicated to many saints.

Deus ti salvet, Maria
chi ses de grascias plena,
de grascias ses sa vena
e sa currente.
 
Su Deus onnipotentecun tegus est istadu,
pro chi t'at riservadu
immaculada.
 
Beneita e laudada,subr'a totus gloriosa,
mama, fiza e isposa
de su Segnore.
 
Beneitu su fiorechi est frutu de su sinu,
Gesus, fiore divinu,
Segnore nostru.
 
Pregade a fizu ostruchi totus sos errores,
a nois pecadores
nos perdonet.
 
E sa grascia nos donetin vida e in sa morte,
e sa diciosa sorte,
in paradisu.

Bonaventura Licheri di Neoneli.

 

God will save you Maria.
God will save you Maria, you are full of thanks you are the inspiration and courant of thanks, Almighty God, has made you immaculate and kept you that way: Blessed and praised, above all glorious mother, daughter and bride of the Lord blessed the flower, fruit of your breast, Jesus divine flower, our Lord. Pray to your son so that he forgives all our mistakes and sins. And you give us thanks, in life and in death, and a lucky destiny in heaven.

ANNINNIA

A sweet lullaby, which contains the best wishes and auspices that, every parent makes for the child that they cradle. Rhythm: folk sing-song.

Dromidi in paghe, pipiu meu,paghe e fortuna tenzas de Deus,
paghe e fortuna, sa prenda mia,
bene e salude tenzas ebbia.
Chi non connoscas ite est affannu,
nŤ a minore e nŤ a mannu,su chi disizas tenzas a gosu,
sias onestu e virtudosu.
Bellu e istruidu chi sias puru,
e unu tribagliu tenzas seguru,
e sa natura in donzi logu,
rispetta semper, non ponzas fogu.
De zente ona faghedi amigu,
de sas intragnas sias inimigu,
ite est no iscas a emigrae
e una bella pozas amae.
E chi ti formes una famiglia
e bivas semper a meraviglia,
e de s'amore tenzas cunsolu,
e mai passes un'ora 'e dolu.
 

Tonino Cau

Lullaby
Sleep in peace, my baby, so god can give you luck and peace. Luck and peace my pearl, so that you will know only health and all the best. So that you donít know anxiety, neither when your young nor old, that you can ejoy yourself as much as you wish, be honest and virtuous. So that you can be beautiful and educated and so that you can find a good job, and respectd nature, wherever, donít ever cause a fire. Become a friend of good people and an enemy of deceit, so that you wonít know emigration and so that you can love a beautiful woman. So that you can have a family and so you can always live marvellously, and that you can have comfort from love, and that you never know an hour mourning.

 

MAMA NON CHERET

A song to passu torrau, played with launeddas and accordion, triangle and sa trunfa, in which they revive the chorus of a folk strophe, they stigmatise some of town lifeís out place and unspeakable behaviour.

Mama non cheret a míimbriagareproite ca noghet meda a sa salude,
mi narat: faghe a bonu in zoventude,
si sanu e forte cheres imbetzare.
 
Mama non cheret chi passe sa dieche vagabundu, con sos bituleris,
o ibbaýtu, per-i sos tzilleris,ca noghet a sa buscia e a mie.
 
Mama non cheret mancu chi saludesas femmineddas de pagu capža,mi narat: menzus sena cumpanzia,
che una muzere chi no at virtude.
 
Mama non cheret su inare meua che gastare cun feminas malas,
ca si ndíintendet in totus sas alas,
de zente morta Ďe cussu male feu.
 
Issa cheriat, cun díuna galanazovana Ďe idda a mi coiuare,
ca non suportat de míider umpare,
cun díuna vissiosa e pagu sana.
 
Mama non cheret, a síiscapavžachi míabbandone cun zente metzana,
mi narat: menzus a passare gana,
che in galera pro una balentža. 

Tonino Cau

Mum doesnít want
Mum doesnít want me to get drunk, because it damages my health. She advice me to behave well when Iím young. If I want to grow old and healthy. Mum doesnít want me spend my days like a vagabond, or dispersed in pubs, itís bad for your health and pocket. Mum doesnít even want me to greet little women of little importance, she says itís better to be alone than with someone lacking virtue. Mum doesnít want me to spend money on whores, because she canít bear the thought of seeing me with someone unhealthy and full of vices. Mum doesnít want me to take to roaming with middle-class and she says to me: hunger is better than going to prison for a hot-headed action.

 

A SOS PIZZINNOS

A song written in tandem by Peppeloisu Piras and Ivo Marras, on child hood and itís innocent world, on the wealth which children represent. Rhythm: first to sa seria and then to passu torrau.

 Bella sa gioventude totu frore,paret caddu currinde sena briglia,
in sa mente si sognat sa famiglia
aspirende profumos de amore,
cun sa cumpagna sua, a meraviglia,
bella richesa de altu valore,
dinare non bi nd'at de la pagare
ca bona mama devet diventare.
 
Est che ogni mama chi at su cuntentucando in su sinu at unu pipiu,
felice de l'aer sanu e biu,
li dat afetu in dogni momentu,
in piantu li faghet su lamentu,
paret che rusignolu in su riu,
pianghinde, in su coro li dat pena,
tanto lu ninnat cun sa cantilena.
 
Cussu est donu de s'umana naturaacumpagnadu dae su criau,
dae minoreddu mannu est diventau,
andende a iscola pro una cultura,
finalmente chi s'est laureau
a su malaidu devet dare cura,
degnu trabagliu, de imbidiare,
e a mama e a babbu no at a abbandonare.
 
Peppeloisu Piras 
Sunt sos pizzinnos opera istupenda,de s'omine su menzus tribagliare,
babbos e mamas prontos a pagare
pro su riscatu d'una tale prenda,
 
e s'insoro bellesa e siendanon b'at oju bastante a las mirare,
nemancu sa barbarie pius tremenda
cuss'innocenzia podent cancellare.
 
Si solu essent ischidu chi in su munduesistini ricone e poberitu,
e su primu cumandat su segundu,
certu aian chircadu ateru litu,
menzus e menzus meda, pius giucundu
de custu logu nostru tantu aflitu.
 
Ivo Marras

To the children
Youth is beautiful, all roses, it seems like a horse with no brakes, dreams of a family and inhales lovers scents with her wonderful friend, itís a wealth of high value, and money canít buy it if she becomes a good mother. Like every mother she is happy to have a child in her womb, happy to have it alive and healthy she gives it affection every moment, if it cries she makes a noise like a nightingale in a river, and when it cries she has pain in her heart a she sings it a lullaby. This is a gift of nature and of creation, it has grown up and goes to school to be educated, and finally when it graduates it will cure the ill with itís worthy and enviable job. But it will never abandon itís mum and dad. Babies are splendid works, mans best fruit, the parents are prepared to pay the ransom for such a pearl, there are no eyes to ascertain a childís beauty and value, and not even the most tremendous barbarity can obliterate their innocence. If only they knew that rich and poor exists in the world, and the first rule the later, of course they could choose to be born in another place, much better than our so distressed.

  

UNU CONSIZU

Advice to reckless youths who donít see the dangers of racing in their cars. Rhythm: to sa seria.

A tie, giovanu de sa prima essida, si mi permitis un'avvertimentu:
cando chi ses in su postu 'e guida,
mesu muscadu, e t'intendes cuntentu
 
Ma si bi pensas bene, custa vidanon che l'imbolas in d'unu momentu,
cando t'agatas cun sa mente ischida
t' intendes forte ca dannu no has tentu.
 
Mira ca custa vida tantu bellamedas giovanos macos at firmadu,
o reduidos in sedia a rotellas,
de sas machinas medas nd'an bogadu
fatos a peta subra una barella,
ma tue a totu custu no as pensadu.

 
Nicola Loi

Advice
You are still a novice, youngster and, if you allow me to give you some advice, Iím warning you: for when your driving your car, a bit typsy and happy. But if you think about it, you donít throw your life away in an instance, when you are wide awake. You feel strong because you havenít been injured. Watch out, this very beautiful life has stopped many reckless youths and confined them to a whellchair, many have been pulled out of the cars in pieces, on a stretcher, havenít you thought of this.

MUTOS

We usually end our evening with some mottetti (short choruses).

Ite bellu cantare,chi faghet su tenore,
cun boghe armoniosa.
A mannos e minores,
bajanos cun isposas
bos cherzo saludare.
 
Sardigna isolana,tue ses un amore
bista de sa costŤra.In terra istraniera
trabagliat cun suÚresa zente tua lontana.
 
Si bi ando a Caprerabisito a s'eroe
chi inie est reposende.
Sa zoventude 'e oe
la suni destruende
ca de sa droga est s'era.
 
In chelu 'e Palestinaest falada un'istella,
mai ida una uguale.
Unu bonu Nadale,
ca est sa die pius bella
a ogn'omine e femžna. 
In sa Pala 'e su niebi at una contonera,
villeta provinciale.
Bellesa universale,
nara si ses fiera
de amare a mie.
 
A sa cresia magioreeris so andadu,
mi so postu a pregare.
Devo ringraziare
a custu comitadu
pro s'invitu a su tenore.
 
Orisetzo e Pranu,notos in bidda mia,
sos montes de altura.
Fin'a sa sepoltura
narrer giai ti cheržade mi dare sa manu.
 
In sa zona 'e PulŤuamus a monumentu
sas domos de agianas.
Rosa mia galana,
unidos in sacramentu,
coro tuo e meu.
 
Su campu 'e Nocurrelilu cherzo laorŗresi permitit s'annada.
Finida est sa cantada,
bos cheret saludare
su Coro 'e Neoneli.

 
Peppeloisu Piras

 

Mottetti
How beautifully the tenor sings with his harmonious voice. I wish to greet the young and their brides the young and the old. Island of Sardinia, seen from the coast you are a beauty your people work hard, in lands far away. If I go to Caprera I will visit Garibaldi who lies there. The young of today are destroying it because itís the drug era. A star has risen in the Palestine sky, such a star has never been seen. I want to wish every man and woman a happy Christmas, since it is the most beautiful day of all.

In ďPala Ďe su nieĒ (Neoneli rural place name) there is a provincial signal manís house. Universal beauty, tell me if youíre proud to love me. Yesterday I went to pray in the main church. I must thank the committee for having invited the choir. Orisetzo and Pranu (Neoneli highest mountains), are the highest mountains known in Neoneli. I want to ask you to shake my hand until I die. In the PulŤu area (Neoneli rural place name) we have the domus de janas monument. My beautiful rose, unite our hearts in oath. The Noccurreli field (Neoneli rural place name), if it allows me crops, I want to sew it. The song has ended and Neoneli Choir want to say good bye, good wishes to you.

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Isola Sarda © 1997-2005 - Associazione Culturale Ciberterra - Responsabile: Giorgio Plazzotta
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