Translation of the song Chelu 'e nues artist Luciano Pigliaru

Unu chelu 'e nues, non b'aiat isteddos

A cloudy sky, there were no stars

ne una luna prena ma una luna mala.

nor a full moon, but a bad moon.

Unu chelu 'e nues, chelu misteriosu,

A cloudy sky, mysterious sky,

unu bentu lezu, bentu minetosu.

an ugly wind, menacing wind.

Sétiu in cussas predas, mi l'ammento galu

Sitting on those stones, I still remember him

chi s'inde pranghiat de cuss'isetu malu,

crying for that bad expectation,

ca non fit cuntentu de cuss'evolutzione:

because he was unhappy of that evolution:

totu su mundu at pérdiu valore.

the whole world has lost its value.

Mi l'ammento galu, sétiu in cussas predas,

I still remember him, sitting on those stones,

a orolozu su sole e a libru sas istellas.

the sun as a clock, the stars as a book.

Unu chelu 'e nues, sun nues nigheddas,

A cloudy sky, they're black clouds,

essin dae fumajolos, dae cuddas fabbricheddas.

they come out of funnels, out from those small factories.

Sutta 'e custu chelu ormai non creschet nudda,

Under this sky nothing grows anymore,

petzi zente mala e milli maladias.

only bad people and a thousand diseases.

Fintzas su pastore non b'est prus murghende

Even the shepherd is no longer milking

ca su late est malu e no at sapore.

because the milk is bad and has no flavour.

Amus a torrare a carru chin sos boes,

We'll go back to the oxcart,

a bier isteddos in chelu chentza nues,

to see the stars in a cloudless sky;

amus a torrare a sos ballos de beranu,

we'll go back to the spring dances,

su calore 'e cussu tempus non 'che l'apo irmenticau.

I've never forgotten the warmth of those times.

Unu chelu 'e nues, in coro un'isperàntzia:

A cloudy sky, a hope in the heart:

chi finant sas gherras, chi finat s'abbundàntzia

wars may cease, abundance may end

ca chin s'abbundàntzia s'hómine est bissiau

because, with abundance, the man is spoiled

e no at prus rispetu de su valore umanu.

and has no more respect for the human value.

Amus a torrare a carru chin sos boes,

We'll go back to the oxcart,

a bier isteddos in chelu chentza nues,

to see the stars in a cloudless sky;

amus a torrare a sos ballos de beranu,

we'll go back to the spring dances,

su calore 'e cussu tempus non'che l'apo irmenticau.

I've never forgotten the warmth of those times.