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Breakfast In Viareggio – English Translation Posted by on Apr 24, 2017 in Uncategorized

Here’s the English translation of Serena’s article Tales From The Bar – Breakfast In Viareggio, published last Friday.

Frequentavo il Liceo Classico a Viareggio. La mattina presto insieme ad altri miei compagni di scuola prendevo la corriera della Lazzi che partiva da Lucca alle 7 del mattino ed arrivava a Viareggio alle 7.30. La scuola, a pochi metri dalla fermata della corriera, apriva verso le 7.40, così avevamo del tempo da perdere prima che le lezioni iniziassero alle 8.00.

I went to school at the Liceo Classico in Viareggio. Early in the morning, together with several of my school mates, I took the Lazzi coach that left Lucca at 7 in the morning and arrived in Viareggio at 7.30. The school, just a few metres from the bus stop, opened at around 7.40, so we had time to kill before lessons began at 8:00.

Quasi all’angolo fra la vicina Piazza Shelley e la strada dove si trovava la scuola c’era un bar, il Caffè Shelley, che era il nostro rifugio. Scendevamo dalla corriera e andavamo dritti lì a prenderci un bel cappuccino prima di affrontare la mattinata. Il nostro gruppetto da Lucca era il primo ad arrivare; dopo una decina di minuti arrivavano le altre corriere, e pian piano il bar si riempiva di studenti e professori del vicino Liceo Classico. Quando suonava la prima campanella che avvertiva che le lezioni stavano per cominciare, attraversavamo la strada ed entravamo nelle nostre aule.

Almost on the corner, between the nearby Piazza Shelley and the street where the school was, stood a bar, the Caffè Shelley, which was our refuge. We got off the coach and went straight there to get ourselves a nice cappuccino before facing up to the morning. Our little group from Lucca was the first to arrive; after about ten minutes the other buses arrived, and the bar gradually filled with students and teachers from the nearby Liceo Classico. When the first bell rang to warn us that lessons were about to begin, we crossed the road and went into our classrooms.

Le pareti del Caffè Shelley erano ricoperte da quadri disegnati dalla Zoria, famosissimo personaggio viareggino. La Zoria era una clochard che bivaccava in Piazza Shelley e si pagava da mangiare facendo quadretti naif. Mi immagino che il nostro barista sperasse che un giorno La Zoria diventasse famosa, come era successo in passato con un altro pittore naif italiano, Antonio Ligabue. Chissà come sognava, il povero barista, di poter vendere tutti quei quadri e ritirarsi milionario in qualche paradiso perduto!

The walls of Caffè Shelley were covered with pictures drawn by Zoria, a very famous Viareggio character. Zoria was a tramp who camped in Piazza Shelley and paid for her food by doing naive drawings. I imagine that our bartender hoped that Zoria would become famous one day, as had happen in the past with another naive Italian painter Antonio Ligabue. Who knows how he dreamed, that poor bartender, of being able to sell all those pictures and retire as a millionaire to some lost paradise!

Ma torniamo a noi studenti: un giorno, arrivati come al solito davanti al bar alle 7.30, lo trovammo chiuso. Non c’era nessun cartello sulla saracinesca che spiegasse il motivo della chiusura, per cui non sapendo cosa fare ci guardammo un po’ in giro, scorgemmo un altro bar sul lato opposto della piazza e andammo lì. Quando poco prima delle otto uscimmo dal bar per andare a scuola, notammo che il nostro locale abituale era aperto come al solito. Vergognosi di ‘averlo tradito’, sgattaiolammo lungo i muri per non farci vedere dal barista.

But let’s get back to us students: one day, arriving as usual in front of the bar at 7:30, we found it closed. There was no notice attached to the shutters to explain why it was closed so, not knowing what to do, we looked around a bit, made out a bar on the opposite side of the piazza, and went there. When we came out of the bar to go to school just before eight o’clock, we noticed that our regular locale was open as usual. Feeling ashamed of ‘having betrayed him’, we slunk along the walls so that the bartender wouldn’t see us.

Il giorno dopo il padrone del bar si scusò spiegando che la sveglia non aveva funzionato e così si era svegliato tardi. Ci disse inoltre che abitava sopra al bar, per cui se fosse capitato nuovamente, di non aver paura e di suonare il campanello di casa. E così fu che, alcuni mesi dopo, al nostro arrivo la mattina presto trovammo di nuovo il bar chiuso, ma questa volta decidemmo di non tradirlo e suonammo il campanello. Si aprì una finestra al piano di sopra da cui si affacciò il barista tutto spettinato: “Scusate, arrivo subito!” ci gridò.

The next day the owner of the bar excused himself, explaining that his alarm clock hadn’t worked and so he had woken up late. He also told us that he lived above the bar, so if it should happen again, we mustn’t be afraid to ring his doorbell. And so, some months later, when we arrived early in the morning and found the bar closed again, we decided not to betray him, and this time we rang the doorbell. A window opened on the floor above, out of which peered the unkempt bartender: “Sorry, I’ll be right there!” he shouted to us.

Here’s a link to our previous bar blog: Tales From The Bar – Le Studentesse
English translation for Tales From The Bar – Le Studentesse
HERE

If you have any questions about this translation don’t hesitate to leave a comment,

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Comments:

  1. Mike Rose:

    I got lost in the last paragraph. Translated “la sveglia” as opening. So the opening had not worked and opened later. Never seen “nuovamento” before, thought it was a misprint for “muovamento” (wrong spelling). So came up with – He said, moreover, that he lived above the bar, in which there happened to be some movement, didn’t have fear, and the house bell rang.
    So I managed to substitute a key sentence with complete rubbish. However, the rest was OK.

  2. Donna:

    What a treasure trove of new words! I especially like “clochard” (sounds French), “saracinesca” (suggests “Saracen”; is it the same as “persiane”, which also has an eastern flavor?), and best of all “sgattoiolammo” (so slinky and cat-like)!

    • Serena:

      @Donna Salve Donna!
      Clochard is French, and is used instead of ‘barbone’ to give a more gentle definition.
      Saracinesca comes from the word saraceno, maybe because it was thought to be a Saracen invention, or because it was first used in towns along the coast which were attacked by the Saracens.
      Sgattaiolare comes from gatto, of course!
      Saluti da Serena

  3. Alexandra:

    Thank you for this! I appreciate these opportunities to try my hand at the Italian version first and then to learn from the subsequent English translation you post. I learned a few new words including: “sgattaiolammo” which I discovered comes from “sgattaiolare”. …great word to know!

  4. Suzi:

    Thank you for another lovely story. Lots of practise for remote tense with all the emmo, immo & ammo’s! Am I right to understand the first 2 paras use imperfect because they were ongoing action with school and the cafe, but remote for the last 2 paras because they were a one off situation?


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