Francesco (Franco) Serantini was born in Cagliari on Sardinia on 16th July 1951 and abandoned at birth. He was given both his names by an official of a literary bent or a priest or policeman who had seen in the paper recently mention of the Romagnol writer of the same name, an author of picturesque novels, one of which was I Bastardi.
THE BALLAD OF FRANCO SERANTINI
La ballata di Franco Serantini
Written by Piero Nissim
Rewritten in English by Riccardo Venturi, May 7, 2019.
It was the seventh of May, on the election day,
The first results, as you see, are coming from the jails.
There was a comrade who lay there dead
And he was only twenty years old.
There was a comrade who lay there dead
And he was only twenty years old.
A meeting was scheduled with fascist Niccolai,
Franco and his comrades resolv'd to bar him the way:
“We have to stop him, happen what may,
That filthy fascist mustn't speak today.”
We have to stop him, happen what may,
That filthy fascist mustn't speak today.”
Franco was caught by the cops on Gambarcorti quay,
Those serfs of the State beat him until he lay.
“And now, you fuckin' reds finally understand
That you can die if you against us stand!”
And now, you fuckin' red finally understand
That you can die if you against us stand!”.
And later, left to the mercy of Zanca and Ballardo,
Franco was beaten again by the cops and the wardens:
“I already warn'd you six months ago”,
Zanca says beating him without pity.
“I already warn'd you six month ago”,
Zanca says beating him without pity.
Franco lies alone in jail, now he feels he is dying
When an attorney comes to the cell where he's lying.
He then asks Franco: “What brought you there?”
“The idea of freedom; that's why I'm dying here.”
He then asks Franco: “What brought you there?”
“The idea of freedom; that's why I'm dying here.”
They suddenly hurry up, you're dangerous even dead,
An operation's launched to bury you with speed.
“He's only an orphan, let's get rid of him,
Nobody will come and reclaim his body.”
”He's only an orphan, let's get rid of him,
Nobody will come and reclaim his body.”
But all your hopes crashed, all your tricks were in vain.
The day Franco was buried, three thousand comrades say:
“Here's our will, here's our promise
That our struggle will never cease.”
Here's our will, here's our promise
That our struggle will never cease.”
It was the seventh of May, on the election day,
The first results, as you see, are coming from the jails.
There was a comrade who lay there dead
And he was only twenty years old.
There was a comrade who lay there dead,
Dead for our freedom; his light will spread.
The first results, as you see, are coming from the jails.
There was a comrade who lay there dead
And he was only twenty years old.
There was a comrade who lay there dead
And he was only twenty years old.
A meeting was scheduled with fascist Niccolai,
Franco and his comrades resolv'd to bar him the way:
“We have to stop him, happen what may,
That filthy fascist mustn't speak today.”
We have to stop him, happen what may,
That filthy fascist mustn't speak today.”
Franco was caught by the cops on Gambarcorti quay,
Those serfs of the State beat him until he lay.
“And now, you fuckin' reds finally understand
That you can die if you against us stand!”
And now, you fuckin' red finally understand
That you can die if you against us stand!”.
And later, left to the mercy of Zanca and Ballardo,
Franco was beaten again by the cops and the wardens:
“I already warn'd you six months ago”,
Zanca says beating him without pity.
“I already warn'd you six month ago”,
Zanca says beating him without pity.
Franco lies alone in jail, now he feels he is dying
When an attorney comes to the cell where he's lying.
He then asks Franco: “What brought you there?”
“The idea of freedom; that's why I'm dying here.”
He then asks Franco: “What brought you there?”
“The idea of freedom; that's why I'm dying here.”
They suddenly hurry up, you're dangerous even dead,
An operation's launched to bury you with speed.
“He's only an orphan, let's get rid of him,
Nobody will come and reclaim his body.”
”He's only an orphan, let's get rid of him,
Nobody will come and reclaim his body.”
But all your hopes crashed, all your tricks were in vain.
The day Franco was buried, three thousand comrades say:
“Here's our will, here's our promise
That our struggle will never cease.”
Here's our will, here's our promise
That our struggle will never cease.”
It was the seventh of May, on the election day,
The first results, as you see, are coming from the jails.
There was a comrade who lay there dead
And he was only twenty years old.
There was a comrade who lay there dead,
Dead for our freedom; his light will spread.