O l'êa partîo sensa 'na palanca,
l'êa zâ trent'anni, fòrse anche ciù.
O l'aveiva lotòu pe mette i dinæ a-a banca
e poèisene un giorno vegnî in zù
e fâse a palasinn-a e o giardinetto,
co-o ranpicante, co-a cantinn-a e o vin,
a branda atacâ a-i èrboi, a ûzo létto,
pe dâghe 'na schenâ séia e matin.
Ma o figgio o ghe dixeiva: «No ghe pensâ
a Zena, cöse ti ghe veu tornâ?!»
Ma se ghe penso alôa mi veddo o mâ,
veddo i mæ monti, a ciassa da Nonçiâ,
riveddo o Righi e me s'astrenze o cheu,
veddo a lanterna, a cava, lazù o Meu...
Riveddo a-a séia Zena iluminâ,
veddo là a Fôxe e sento franze o mâ
e alôa mi penso ancon de ritornâ
a pösâ e òsse dôve ò mæ madonâ.
E l'êa pasòu do tenpo, fòrse tròppo,
o figgio o l'inscisteiva: «Stemmo ben,
dôve ti veu andâ, papà?.. pensiêmo dòppo,
o viâgio, o mâ, t'ê vêgio, no conven!».
«Oh no, oh no! me sento ancon in ganba,
son stùffo e no ne pòsso pròpio ciù,
son stanco de sentî señor caramba,
mi véuggio ritornâmene ancon in zù...
Ti t'ê nasciûo e t'æ parlòu spagnòllo,
mi son nasciûo zeneize e... no me mòllo!».
Ma se ghe penso alôa mi veddo o mâ,
veddo i mæ monti, a ciassa da Nonçiâ,
riveddo o Righi e me s'astrenze o cheu,
veddo a lanterna, a cava, lazù o Meu...
Riveddo a-a séia Zena iluminâ,
veddo là a Fôxe e sento franze o mâ
e alôa mi penso ancon de ritornâ
a pösâ e òsse dôve ò mæ madonâ.
He had left without a penny,
it was already thirty years, if not more.
He worked hard to put money in the bank
and so a tomorrow to come back
build the house and the garden,
with ivy, with the cellar and the wine,
the folding-bed on the trees to bed use,
for to take us a nap evening and day.
But the son would say: «Don't think
why do you want to return to Genoa?!»
But if I think I see the sea,
I see my mounts, square of Nunziata,
I see again Righi, and my heart is tightened, I see the lantern, the quarry, down there the Molo..
I see again at night Genoa with all its lights,
I see the Foce and I can hear the sea
so I think again to return
to lay the bones where I have my grandmother.
Time passed, maybe too long,
and the son insisting: «We live well,
where do you want to go, daddy?.. we'll think later, the journey, the sea, you're old, it's not convenient!».
«Oh no, oh no! I still feel fit,
I am fed up and I can't stand it any longer,
I am tired of hearing señor caramba,
I want to return again...
You are born and you speak spanish,
I am born genoese and... I won't give up!».
But if I think I see the sea,
I see my mounts, square of Nunziata,
I see again Righi, and my heart is tightened,
I see the lantern, the quarry, down there the Molo..
I see again at night Genoa with all its lights,
I see the Foce (river mouth) and I can hear the sea
so I think again to return
to lay the bones where I have my grandmother.