AMERICA e SARDIGNA - O limbazu chi ammentas su romanu durche faeddu de sa patria mea tristu comente cantu ‘e filumena chi in sas rosas si dormit a manzanu - cola su mare, e cando in sa fiorida America nche ses a tottus nara chi s’isula ‘e Sardigna isettat galu de esser iscoperta e connoschida. (English translation) - O language that throws back to the Romans Sweet fairy tale of my patriotic land sad like the song of the Blackcap bird that amidst the roses, sleeps until morning - the boat undulates, and when it flourishes, you will be in America tell everyone that the island of Sardinia is still waiting to be discovered and known.

Lillallera, Marietta in bianco stasera / Marietta in white, tonight Fiocco nero, tralallero / Black bow, trallalero Piccola sposa in canottiera / little bride in an undershirt in primavera /in springtime Lillallero, lillallera. / Lillalero, lillalera. Lillarone, nella brezza sua canzone / Her song is on the breeze Pane e vino, il pastore / Bread and wine, the shepherd Mare e sale, il pescatore / Sea and salt, the fisherman per il Re minor / and for the little king Lillalero, lillarone / Lillalero, lillarone. Lilleranno, le Madonne mormorando / The Madonnas murmur su un letto di fieno e lino / on a bed of straw and linen, aria di montagna e rosmarino /mountain air and rosemary rose e zafferano, / roses and saffron, Lilleranno, lilleranno. / Lillalero, lillalera. Lillarino, cielo, e roccia Appennino / Sky, and Appenino rock acqua santa e magìa / holy water and magic contadino e carrettino, / land worker and hand-cart *ecce homo e destino, / here is man and destiny Lillalero, lillarino / Lillalero, lillarino Lillalera, Lillalilli, / Lillalera, Lillalilli, Ninnnana e Amarilli, / Lullaby and Amarillis fame, fuoco, frate e figli / hunger, fire, siblings, and children varicella e morbillo / chicken pox and measles peste, pioggia e parassiti / plagues, rain and parasites fazzoletti e campanelli / handkerchiefs and church bells angioletti e uccelli / little angels and birds ciaramella e tarantella, / chaums and tarantella saltarello e balzello / *saltarello and *balzello stalle, strilli, e stornelli / stables, screams and *stornelli Canta il campo / The fields sing con un coro di grilli / with a chorus of grasshoppers Lillalera, lillarilli. / Lillalera, lillarilli.

Ascia, gancio, sega, pala, / Ax, hook, saw, shovel falce, raspa, zappa, spada, / scythe, rasp, hoe, sword, lama, pietra, unghia, denti, / blade, stone, fingernail, teeth, urli, strilli, maledetti! / hollers, screams, cursed people! O diman’ O diman’ / O tomorrow, O tomorrow A Marsala, Garibald’ / Garibaldi at Marsala Suona a tromba, suona a guerra / Sound the trumpet, Sound the war Suona in cielo, suona in terra. / Resounds in the sky, resounds on the earth. Scendono 1000, e 1000 incontra / One thousand descend, and 1000 encounter Coppole bianca, giubbe rosse / White caps, red jackets Infuoc’ o vient, infuoc’ a notte / Ignite the wind, ignite the night Infuoc’ a vita e la morte / Ignite life and ignite death. Suona! / Play! Terra acqua, terra pane / Land water, land bread terra amara, terra fame / land bitter, land hunger terra madre, e Schiavona / land mother, and slave (also Madonna of Montevergine) terra nasc’ e terra torna. / land birth, and land return. Corti, chiati, grandi e grossi / Short, fat, large, robust alti, bassi, tost’e mosce / tall, short, hard, and soft Per l’onore di servire / For the honour of serving Si, morir, morir, morire! / Yes, death, death, death! Si! Si! Ah, Ha-ha-ha! / Yes! Yes, Ah, Ha-ha-ha! Frate e frate messi in guerra / Brother to brother put in war per padroni in casa terra / for foreign masters in our home land senza madre e senza amore / without mother and without love riuniti nell’furore / re-united in fury. O giornata del retagg’ / O day of wrath (and heritage) da sotto il piede a sopra il braccio / from under their feet, to above their brawn armati dei dolori e santi / armed by anguish and saints e il fuoco dei segreti pianti. / and the fire of secret tears. Vola, vola, la regina / Fly, fly, the little queen la baronessa e a piccirilla / the baroness, and the little one vola vola d’o balcone / fly, fly from the balcony lu galinaccio e lu pavone / the cock and the peacock. Preti, papa e preghiere / Priests, pope and prayers Dies ire e miserere / Dies ire and miserere Campanelli suona a vetta / Church bells ring from the summit Pentinenza e vendetta / penitence and vengeance Sbatte, sbatte, cuore batte / Pound, pound, the heart pounds Salta, salta, sangue salta / Leap, leap, the blood leaps Scappa, scappa, scappa, scapp’, / Run, run, run, run Scappa ratto, che mo t’acchiapp’ / Run rat, for I am going to get you. Patria mia bella e’ perduta / O my homeland, so beautiful and lost Traviata e abbattuta / Lead astray and beaten down da Milano a Cefalù / from Milano to Cefalù Viva Verdi – V.V.V! / Viva Verdi – V.V.V! Si! Si! Si! Si! / Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes! Siamo la Banda, e la tromba suonerà / We are the Band, and the trumpet will sound morte e martire risusciterà / the dead and martyrs will rise again il peccato è: / sin is: la morte dalla freccia e la forza della legge / death by the arrow, and the force of the law ed e’ sommersa la morte nella vittoria / and it is submerged in death and victory. Siamo la Banda, e il tamburo batterà / We are the Band, and the hand drum beats on in mare o in monte, in paese e campagna / by sea or mountain, in town and countryside corte, canto, e opera, sommersa in tammurriata / court, song, and opera, submerged in tammurriata da Pagliaccio servo al giudice final. / from Jester servant to final judge. Na-na-na-na…..Si, Si, Si, Si, Si, Si!!

4. KINGS Peter Thorn takes up the sword, behind a mask, for the magic class It’s for the best you hide your name. Patriot songs, the chant a-longs, up in the square, in the mountain air The men hold court and play card games (They say) “The King always wins, that how it is; ‘cause the king is a king, it’s always been – now play!” (He says) “The King is a king when he’s on the thrown, the King is a man, that’s given this role – it’s a game!” Procedamus in pace, in nomine Christi, amen. Everyday, you play the game, you follow suit, fit in the frame waiting for the day your real life begins Hear no evil, see no harm – there’s always a job in the devil’s arms We sacrifice ours souls to win. (He says) “Loyal poverty is daily bread; resistance poverty is death or dread – you choose. Do you know the stakes of your sacrifice? How high are you willing to pay the price? – Can you live with what you’ll lose? Procedamus in pace, in nomine Christi, amen. King of coins, king of swords, which man is the wolf in the white lamb’s clothes? We know a wolf from what we’ve seen! But wolves return in modern clothes, with modern talk, and a popular vote Which one’s the wolf? Which one’s the sheep? Rebellion to doctrine, and doctrine to creed; and a counter-regime to the new regime – now what’s right?They put God at the head of the Party and State, pray to the flag and make Heaven the bait – (They say) “The King is on our side!” It’s no use, they know it’s you you’ve gone astray, you’ve chosen to choose Into the woods, into the veil of snow Angels close in, the bugles blow The howling lifts and summoning rings the silence cut, the end begins her legs sink deep, the run is done the howls of hunger have begun the hunter rises and dips below The lamb holds still in the frozen snow The wolf trots low, the howling grows… the howling grows… the howling grows… Procedamus in pace, in nomine Christi, amen.

I don’t think it’s crazy But it’s a sign of the times We want the best Lest we forget We won’t regret. I can make it easy I know you’ve got a dream Believe in me I will set us free It’s so easy If you follow me. Remember a time When kings trembled at our feet? This is a sign We will bring them to their knees! We deserve, we deserve our place in the sun, ya We deserve, we deserve to be number one God and Cesar wrote it in the history books it’s plain We deserve, we deserve to make our nation great again! 2x Some people have gone crazy You know, they’ve lost their minds There’s jealousy, tyranny, hypocrisy I bring security, trust in me. Forward we march freely out of love and duty From obscurity, to liberty, we march forward to the drum beat. This is the time When you will tremble at my feet I am the sign I am the law, I am the creed. We deserve, we deserve our place in the sun, ya We deserve, we deserve to be number one Kings and Jesus wrote it in the history books it’s plain We deserve, we deserve to make our nation great again. We deserve, we deserve our place in the sun, ya We deserve, we deserve to be number one Kings and Cesar wrote it in the history books it’s plain We deserve, we deserve to make our nation great again. Words and music by Romina Di Gasbarro © 2018 Romina Di Gasbarro (SOCAN)

THE FACTORY (Full Steam Ahead) Tick tock teams and fire machines black smoke puffs up American dreams Oh, the wheels grind hard and the smoke puffs high and it shoots like a rocket through the radio night Metal rods rise through the liberty boom and bombers fly high through the big band tunes They’ve got blue suede shoes and a fine leather coat and a Fiat 500 and girls that smoke (oh, yeah!) Leave the farm and the family cut your loss and the slavery 10 hours a day and weekends free and vacation paid and base salary Oh, the shiny new world, of The Factory. 3, 2, 1, and a firing gun rising up to the sky like a hard, hard one But it’s dark in the morning and it’s dark at night and your world grows dark where there used to be sunlight Remember the farm and the family The mountain air and field songs in harmony 10 hours a days of the same monotony for vacation pay and growing fees Oh, the shiny new world... ...the shiny new world, the shiny new world…of The Factory Twist left, loop one Screw/hook right, another one Again, again, again, again it’s never, never done Just a little spot cog In the big machine You’re a cog in your own life and a cog in your own “dream” Remember the soil, field and trees When you watered, snipped and pulled her weeds til the fruit grew ripe, and pure and sweet then the harvest reaped, until you dropped another seed Oh, the shiny new world, of The Factory. Words and music by Romina Di Gasbarro © 2018 Romina Di Gasbarro (SOCAN)

TARANTA San Paolo é venuto in sonno / St. Paul came to me in a dream San Paolo é venuto in sonno / St. Paul came to me in a dream Svolazzava sopra il mio letto / He hovered over my bed E mi mise il ballo nel petto / And put the dance in my chest. Le voci volano sul vento / The voices that fly over the air le voci volano sul vento / the voices that fly over the air fantasmi sull’aria che sento / are ghosts in the wind, I sense le voci che volano sul vento / the voices that fly over the air Stanotte barcollando per il campo / Tonight, staggering through the fields vago, cerco, e ti chiamo / I wander, search, and call you nel suono del tamburro ti rangiungo / in the sound of the drum, I'll meet you nel suono del tamburro / in the sound of the drum. Taranta! Taranta! / Tarantula! Tarantula! Vienimi a pigliá! Vienimi a pigliá! / Come and get me! Come and get me! Gira, gira, gira, mondo / Spin, spin, spin, world Gira, gira, gira, gonna / Spin, spin, spin, skirt Gira, mondo. Gira gonna. / Spin, world. Spin, skirt. Gira, gira, gira, donna, gira! / Spin, spin, spin, woman, spin! San Paolo con la spada in mano / St. Paul with his sword in hand San Paolo con la spada in mano / St. Paul with his sword in hand Nel bacino di notte, aspetto / in the *bacino of night, I await Che mi metti il ballo nel petto / that you will put the dance in my chest. Stanotte barcolando per il campo / Tonight, staggering through the fields vago, cerco, e ti chiamo / I'll wander, looking for, and calling you velata nel mistero, ti ragiungo / Veiled in mystery, I'll meet you nel suono del tamburro. / in the sound of the drum. Taranta! Taranta! / Tarantula! Tarantula! Vienimi a pigliá! Vienimi a pigliá! / Come and get me! Come and get me! Gira, gira, gira, mondo / Spin, spin, spin, world Gira, gira, gira, gonna / Spin, spin, spin, skirt Gira, mondo. Gira gonna. / Spin, world. Spin, skirt. Gira, gira, gira, donna, gira! / Spin, spin, spin, woman, spin! *bacino, translation: 1. field, 2. hip bone, 3. pelvis, 4. hollow Words and music by Romina Di Gasbarro © 2018 Romina Di Gasbarro (SOCAN)

MAGICO Quanto é magico il mare / How magical is the sea Corpo d’azzurro che vive / Blue, living body sotto il lume della luna / under the lume of the moon Luccica come un diamante / it gleams like a diamond. Quanto é magica la terra / How magical is the earth Grani di storia unita / grains of united history ogni suono e forma / every sound and form nasce, sfiora, e torna / is born, blooms, and returns. Quanto é magica la neve / How magical is snow velo di bianco che tace / white, silent veil Sotto il fuoco del sole / under the sun’s fire brilla come un diamante / shines like a diamond. Quanto é magico il cielo / How magical is the sky stelle, l’essere, il pianto / stars, beings, the cry L’inizio di ogni mondo / the beginning of every world Sconosciuto e profondo. / unknown and profound. Quanto é magico. / How magical it is. Words and music by Romina Di Gasbarro © 2018 Romina Di Gasbarro (SOCAN)

IMERECORD Lungo la via sterrata per Leporanica / Along the rubble road to Leporanica Aria dal ghiaccio e suoni di campana / mountain air and the sounds of church bells sotto le stelle e sopra le balle di fieno / under the stars and over the bales of hay sto cuore é pieno d’amore per te / this heart is full of love for you fiori di mandorlo, e rami di ceci / almond flower, and chick pea branches che tu dicevi, “Più bello non c’é.” / you would say, “Nothing is more beautiful.” Questa é tua terra, é madre alma / This is your country, it is mother land Questa é tua lingua, é tua parola / This is your language, it is your word. Voce di grazia, ricamo antico / Graceful voice, ancient embroidery Stornello é figlio del popolo / the Stornello is the offsprind of the people Nonno, poeta e contadino / Nonno, poet and land-worker Figlia son io. Imerecurd / I am your daughter. I remember. Al focolaio, “Sent’a me a nonna sente, / By the fire hearth, “Listen to me, my child, listen, I teng’ poca scuola ma tanta esperienza.” / I have little schooling, but much education Squillo di rabbia, squillo di, Ave Maria / Ping of rage, ping of, Ave Maria madre di Dio, tu prega per noi . / mother of God, you pray for us. Nonna, attrice e contadina / Nonna, actress and landworker Sono tua figlia, Imerecord / I am your daughter. I remember. Scambio cavallo a San Demetrio / The horse was exchanged with San Demetrio Scappò con spada, San Nicandro / and San Nicandro ran off with Demetrio’s sword. Implorava la maestra: “Signora suo figlio, / The teacher implored: “Signora, your son, Brillante e ingegno, de’ studiare ancor’” / brilliant and ingenious, must continue his studies.” Babbo, coraggio e filosifia / Daddy, courage and philosophy Sono tua figlia, Imerecord. / I am your daughter. I remember. Ali di lini al vento Colombe in aria / Wings of linen, like doves in the air Volata via Colomba in primavera / the dove flew away in springtime Vola, vola, vola, vola, risate, profumo di madre / Fly, fly, fly, fly away laughter and fragrance of mother, Santi e rosari, in celeste volò, / saints and rosaries, in sky blue ascension Mamma, cantante e fiore dei fiori / Mommy, singer and flower of flowers Lu prima ammore, imerecord / The First Love. I remember. Vedi questa anima, vedi sto core mio / Look at this soul, look at this heart of mine. I nun m’arrende – per l’amore di Dio! / I will not give up – for the love of God! Forte e Gentile, sangue di fuoco e di ghiaccio / Strong and Gentile, blood of fire and of ice caps L’amore é sacro, sacro é amor / Love is sacred, sacred is love. Donna infinita, roccia e universo / Woman, infinite, mountain and universe *Canto e verso, Imerecord. / Canto and verse. I remember. *Canto, translation: 1. Song, 2. Chant, 3. I sing, 4. lyric

O Bedouin, O stars Are you gonna stay a while? For the sweet and ancient fire inspires Rising up from burning silhouettes The silhouettes of time Flickering in the fire. From east to west you roam, from Venus rising from sea foam, You’re the son, the apple of discord, a Trojan prince you were born The son of Noah would not be the drowned that Nimrod raised his fist to the clouds and pierced them with his temple tower, readied for the final hour So the Lord split the tongues of the masses that came tumbling down from the tower towns of Babel like beads of storm running like finger lakes into the fertile plough. Oh Bedouin… From Anatolia to Ionian seas, you “loose your ships to seek domains in Italy” feed under the belly with your new fraternity the milk of wolves passing through ancestries, In poets, painters, alchemists, and peasantry, In the bourgeois and nobility, O Bedouin…you’re rushing through me Castles crumble, battles call, Etruscan to Latins, Greek-Roman to Gaul, Egyptian queens and lover’s brawls, your Reign of Empires falls on Byzantines, Saracens, Holy Terror Papacy, Norman, Austrian and Spanish tribes, your name is not yet realized So the road north was taken by Beatrice and Renzo down to the southern cliffs, And gesture to Pulcinella and Pantalone “Come to the river and wash your clothes in the Arno.” O Bedouin By the river they met with the wooden child running from the fox and cat and monster so riled “If you don’t wise up you’ll never be a boy Stay away from schemes and tricks and old decoys.” I promise, I promise, I promise, I’ll be good Into a boy, from fire wood) O Bedouin…You rage a battle in me. A flock of white vales cross Neptune’s waves, and centuries pass like hours in days Stirring up dark ancient seas, drawing new lines in old mythologies In the distance a portrait, a Newfound land, anchored on the shores of tattooed paths of Chipawahs and Ojibways, and Seneca that passed this way. When the grey wolf howled from the mountain sky, from the precipice, the danger cry, the she-wolf inside you tightened her grip for her reply, Did you listen? Did you muzzle the wild? O Bedouin And from a land once jeweled with hides and evergreens Grew babel towers of urban deities Profit idols and flashing programming of west to eastern new commodities And political gods and media frauds with tabloid offerings who sacrifice on the altar of bargains, and marketing O Bedoiun…You’re howling me… In Julius and Socrates, in the Pompeiian and her little baby, in Mecca, Latium and Nazarene, in the disciples and the apostles’ creed in Orfeus and Allighieri in Spanish Queens and peasantry in Napoleon and Garibaldi in the Resurgence and tyranny in broken bones and packaged dreams in the living gallery, in the bought, and sold, and fallen, rapined in the northern greed and the southern disease O Bedouin, when are you gonna free?