after Cecco Angiolieri (Siena, c.1260-1312)
If I were fire, the world’d burn;
if I were wind, there’d be tempests at ev’ry turn;
if I were water, watch earth drown;
if I were God, I’d smash it all to worms.
If I were Pope, to hell with moral compass,
the christians’d all be flung into a stinkin’ rumpus;
if I were ’mperor, what’d you see?
everybody’s heads rolling round me.
If I were death, I’d go straight for my father;
if I were life, I’d run fast from that bastard:
likewise, don’t you know it?, from mother.
If I were Cecco, likes I am ’n’ was,
I’d chase young, pretty fuzz:
crips and hags, I’d leave to you, putz.
S’i’ fosse foco, ardere’ il mondo;
s’i’ fosse vento, lo tempestarei;
s’i’ fosse acqua, i’ l’annegherei;
s’i’ fosse Dio, mandereil’en profondo.
S’i’ fosse papa, serei allor giocondo,
ché tutti cristïani embrigarei;
s’i’ fosse ’mperator, sa’ che farei?
a tutti mozzarei lo capo a tondo.
S’i’ fosse morte, andarei da mio padre;
s’i’ fosse vita, fuggirei da lui:
similemente faria da mi’ madre.
S’i’ fosse Cecco, com’i’ sono e fui,
torrei le donne giovani e leggiadre:
le vecchie e laide lasserei altrui.