bocca di rosa

They used to call her 'rose lips'
she put love, she put love,
they called her 'rose lips',
she put love in the first place.

Just as she dropped at the station
in the village of San Vicario,
everyone realized with a glance
that she was not a missionary.

Some people do love so for boredom,
some others choose it to profession,
'rose lips' neither one, nor the other:
she did it for love.

But the passion often leads
to satisfy one's cravings
without investigating whether the one you sleep with
has a free heart, or has a wife.

And so suddenly
'rose lips' attracted on herself
the deadly wrath of the dogs
to which she had stolen the bone.

But the old ladies of a village
do not certainly have much initiative,
countermeasures up to that point
were limited to invective.

We know that people give good advice
feeling like Jesus in the temple,
we know that people give good advice
if they cannot be a bad example.

So one old lady, never been married
without children and without cravings,
engaged herself and certainly enjoyed
to give to the other women the right advice.

And turning to the betrayed women,
she told them with witty words:
"The theft of love will be punished -
she said - from the official police."

And to the betrayed women
she said without paraphrase:
"That slut has already too many customers,
more than a food consortium."

Four gendarmes came
with plumes, with plumes on their hat
and four gendarmes arrived
with plumes on their hat and with the weapons.

Tender heart is not a dowry
which characterizes gendarmes,
but in that occasion they were reluctant
to accompany her to the train.

They were all there at the station,
everybody from the Superintendent to the sexton,
they were all there at the station
with red eyes and their hat in the hand

to greet who for a little
unpretentiously, unpretentiously,
to greet who for a little
had brought love in the town.

There was a yellow sign
written in black,
it said "Goodbye rose lips,
with you the spring is leaving."

But original news
do not need any newspaper,
just like an arrow from an arch leaves
they fly fast from mouth to mouth.

And at the next station
there were far more people than when the train left,
some sent a kiss, some threw a flower,
some made an appointment for two hours.

Even the pastor, who 

between ordinary miserere and extreme unction 

does not despise the good ephemeral beauty,
wants her next to himself during the procession.

And with the Virgin in the first row
and rose lips not so far away
sacred love and profane love
are led together around the town.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0jJYA9xaqcs