For ever yours, Cyrano!

Cyrano - Paint by Laura Tedeschi

The last song os Sir Cyrano (Cyrano) - Francesco Guccini

Come on all ye, come on, my paint’d ladies all
so prettie and snooty, come on, I can’t bear ye any more,
my pen it will be driven into your boundless pride
for with this brand o’ mine I can kill ye at my ease.
Come on all ye, come on, ye all paltry poetasters,
ye uselesse singers of this calamytous time
ye fools who live on your spineless verses
ye have gold and glory, yet ye are big nothings.
Enjoy your success, ye fools, get the most out of it,
ye certaynlie will not feare your sheepe-like audience,
God only knoweth where ye flee to escape taxes
so arrogant, as if ye were the tops of the class,
hearken! I’m only a poore cadet o’ gascoyne
but I swear I can’t stand those who have no dreams
I won’t be taken in your nerve and tinselries
and, to end my licence, no pardon and I touch ye,
no pardon shall ye have and I touch ye!
hearken! Let’s break it off, so come on ye alle,
ye foole rabble-rousers, the leaders of our time,
come on all canvassers and second-rate poolitickers,
you alle cruel masters of false ceremonies,
who have so often turn’d laissez-faire into art,
come on, out with the truth and don’t cheat any longer,
ye know that some one will burden all expenses
In this most bless’d land ravaged by nonsense,
I know I’m always wrong, but I don’t give a damne,
displeasing is my pleasure, I love to be hated,
with bullies and slyboots have I play’d my whole life,
and, to end my licence, no pardon and I touch ye!
No pardon shall ye have and I touch ye!
But when I am alone, with my nose down to my feet,
that walks ten yards befor’ me since I came to light,
my anger it does abate, I remember with payne
that heaven it forbade me the sweet dream of love,
How many I did love, how many I did have,
I don’t know, I lost them alle by my fault or by fate,
but when I feel the burden of always being alone,
I shut my door and write, writing’s my solace.
And yet I feel, I do feel that life’s love it exists
with no sin do I love, I am so sad yet I love,
my Roxanne she’s so fair, but, alas! we’re so diff’rent
I can’t talke with her, I'll speake with my verses!
I'll speake with my verses!
Come on all ye, vacuous people, let’s break it off right now,
Ye priestes, who sell us alle the dreame of the other world,
If there’s, as ye do say, a God in the endless heaven
then look into your heart, ye’ve betrayed him!
And ye material people, ye who never give up saying
that God is dead and man is alone in this abysme,
ye looke after your truth on the ground like swines,
ye may keepe your acornes, but please leave me my winges,
go back home, ye dwarfes, get out of my way,
for mine immense rage I need ettins and giantes,
I’ve never been caught in any reveal’d truth,
and, to end my licence, no pardon and I touch ye!
No pardon shall ye have and I touch ye!
With my nose and my brande my enemies I do touch.
But nowe in mine Life I cannot find my way,
I should not give up and resign to my badness,
thou only canst me save, thou only and I do write it.
I do feel it must be a place in heaven or on earthe,
where we any more won’t suffer and all it will be right,
don’t laugh, I beg thee, don’t laughe att my wordes,
for I am only a shadow, and thou art the sun, Roxanne!
Yet I wat thou’rt not laughing, I wat, my sweetest lady,
and I won’t hide my selfe under your balcony,
for I do feel it right now, my pain’s not been in vain
If you love me as I am,
and I remain your servant, for ever yours, Cyrano!