La canzone di Caparezza tradotta in inglese Tu sei pazzo mica Van Gogh

flabbergasting splendiferousness

282 / 2015




Before labeling van Gogh as crazy,
be aware that he is terrace, you ground floor.
Before saying that he was out of his mind,
make me a drawing with sheets of paper and crayon.


Van Gogh, not just that guy,
but one who at your age:
books by Emile Zola,
familiar with Shakespeare, familiar with Dickens,
you are reading manuals of DVD recorders.


He: Threehundred letters – fine literature.
You: Onehundredsixty characters, two smileys, end.
He: London, Paris, Anverse.
You: Megastore, supermarket, multiplex.


He: Distant but knowing all of brother Theo.
You: Living together but not knowing anything of your brother.
He: By foot through the fields, this stimulates him.
You: Trapped with cramps on the treadmill.


Well, after a first estimate, dear boy,
you should agree that…


You are crazy,
not van Gogh, not van Gogh, not van Gogh.
You are crazy,
not van Gogh, not van Gogh, not van Gogh.
You are crazy, not van Gogh.
You are crazy, not van Gogh.


With sixteen years, he roved through art collections,
you, sixteen years, Yu-Gi-Oh card collections.
With twenty year in the salon of the Louvre,
and you in the auto salon in the SUV you stay in underpants.


He: Oil on canvas and created paintings.
You: Oil on muscles, body-building competitions.
He: Villager, models, prostitutes.
You spend the nights in bed with the computer.


He has got talent, and you know
it’s a bit you don’t have.
He bets on himself,
you online poker.


He agitated for having met Gauguin,
you agitated for having sniffed cocaine.
He absent and poetry,
you without poetry.


He has faith,
you feel yourself the messiah.
Van Gogh, a blade and he’s cutting his ear,
I hear you talking “I’m about doing the same”.


I’ve got the razor in my fingers but I won’t kill you.
I will have mercy with you because…




You break everything when there’s a goal,
you line up for the smartphone,
you are crazy, not van Gogh.


Ok, van Gogh,
he used to eat paint tubes and other absurd things,
probably less toxic than your cheeseburger.
He: Hallucinations that alter the view.
You: Consuming mushrooms in Amsterdam but this won’t make you an artist.


You: Fixated on mobile phones.
He: On sun flowers.
Going out with you is a bit 
like going out alone.


Surprise attack, the wind changes 
like in rubamazzo [card game].
There’s some news, boy, 
you are not sane any more.