BUONANOTTE FIORELLINO

Era, pioveva
C'era qualcosa che non si vedeva
Respirava qualcosa respirava
Nella stanza della sposa si nascondeva
Eppure si muoveva

Ancora dimmelo ancora
Che tutto ritornava così com'era
Come bruciava che si disperdeva
E come tornava
Ogni volta che partiva

Piangeva
E si stancava
Come sabbia nel tempo si trasformava
E però esisteva
E si incarnava
E a volte ero sicuro che nasceva
E che ricominciava

Che saliva
E scendeva
Chiamava e si rispondeva
Meravigliava
E produceva
Ed espelleva suoni
Suoni che rubava

Era pioveva
Ma così bianca e nessuno se la prendeva
Così per poco
Che poco ci mancava
Mentre guardava un telefono che suonava
e che non la smetteva

Non parlava
però sapeva tutto quello che gli bastava
quello che credeva
quello che non vedeva
così preciso ed imperfetto
che nessuno lo incastrava
se non voleva ringraziava
con un inchino da domatore le salutava
e poi chiedeva
e chiedeva o prendeva
e come un messicano si allontanava

It was, it rained
there was something that one could not see
It was breathing, something was breathing
it was hiding in the bride's room
and yet it was moving.

Again, tell me again
that everything was reverting back THE WAY it used to be
THE WAY it was burning and it was dispersing
and THE WAY it kept coming back
every time it would leave.

It would cry
and would get tired
it would change like sand over time
and yet it existed
and it would become flesh
and at times I was sure THAT it was being born
and THAT it would start again

THAT it would go up
and would come down
would call and would answer to itself
would surprise
and would produce
and would expel sounds
sounds that it used to steal.

It was it rained
but so white that nobody would get upset
for so little
that we almost would miss it
while it was watching a telephone that was ringing
and that would not stop.

It wasn't speaking
but it knew all the things he needed
all that it believed
all that he didn't see
so precise and imperfect
that nobody could frame it
if it didn't want he would thank
with a curtsey like a lion tamer he would salute them
then he would ask
and would ask or he would take
and like a Mexican he would leave.

L'IMPERFETTO (Francesco De Gregori)
I have no idea what this song means. I just finished translating it and I cannot understand even IF there is a meaning. It's more like a limerick, a nonsense in rime. I used the subject IT in many verses but it could be HE or SHE. I don't have a clue.
	Era, pioveva C'era qualcosa che non si vedeva Respirava qualcosa respirava Nella stanza della sposasi nascondeva Eppure si muoveva Ancora dimmelo ancora Che tutto ritornava così com'era Come bruciava che si disperdeva E come tornava Ogni volta che partiva Piangeva E si stancava Come sabbia nel tempo si trasformava E però esisteva E si incarnava E a volte ero sicuro che nasceva E che ricominciava Che saliva E scendeva Chiamava e si rispondeva Meravigliava E produceva Ed espelleva suoni Suoni che rubava Era pioveva Ma così bianca e nessuno se la prendeva Così per poco Che poco ci mancava Mentre guardava un telefono che suonava e che non la smetteva Non parlava però sapeva tutto quello che gli bastava quello che credeva quello che non vedeva così preciso ed imperfetto che nessuno lo incastrava se non voleva ringraziava con un inchino da domatore le salutava e poi chiedeva e chiedeva o prendeva e come un messicano si allontanava	It was, it rained there was something that one could not see It was breathing, something was breathing it was hiding in the bride's room and yet it was moving. Again, tell me again that everything was reverting back THE WAY it used to be THE WAY it was burning and it was dispersing and THE WAY it kept coming back every time it would leave. It would cry and would get tired it would change like sand over time and yet it existed and it would become flesh and at times I was sure THAT it was being born and THAT it would start again THAT it would go up and would come down would call and would answer to itself would surprise and would produce and would expel sounds sounds that it used to steal. It was it rained but so white that nobody would get upset for so little that we almost would miss it while it was watching a telephone that was ringing and that would not stop. It wasn't speaking but it knew all the things he needed all that it believed all that it didn't see so precise and imperfect that nobody could frame it if it didn't want he would thank with a curtsey like a lion tamer it would salute them then it would ask and would ask or it would take and like a Mexican it would leave.