The same road (Stessa strada)

How gloomythe same road is
and you keep on staying here.
Never mind they are not your problems,
if you could solve any of them.

And the houses are made from nothing in the ghettos
from poles, from iron and a lot of cardboard
look they can manage as if they had a genius
covered with nothing I wonder when it rains.

What disgust! The roads have no asphalt
your shoes get muddy, how much noise there is,
the engine works hardy, the car is new ,
I don’t understand why you remain still.

The same road with an only problem
I must forget my only trouble
if I think again of it I don’t understand
why she was so upset for me.

But after all these things happen in the life
somebody laughs but there is the grief
your child is hungry but you have the telly.
Great problems: you have only the hunger.

And the woman that lieves by trifling things
the wonderfull ones which others are living through
Images, dreams giving her only
something alive during her slow waiting.

How gloomy the same road is
and you keep on staying here.
Never mind they are not your problems
if you could solve any of them.