Fagiano translates to "pheasant". It's an interesting and somewhat unexpected word to find in a pop song, making it memorable and unique.
In the lyrics, the phrase "Un canto di fagiano sale ad est" (A pheasant's song rises to the east) evokes a vivid image of nature and a specific time of day. It adds a touch of rustic beauty and a sense of place to the song's narrative, drawing the listener into the scene.
"La luce dell'est" opens mid-walk, in fog, watching "Un sole quasi bianco sale ad est" [An almost white sun rises in the east]. The memory pulling at him is oddly specific rather than emotional: her small boots in the mud, a bowl of hot broth in a tavern, and a line barely spoken between two people who don't share a language — "'Scusa se non parlo ancora slavo'" ['Sorry if I don't speak Slavic yet']. Whenever something in the present breaks the spell, a trampled branch, later a gunshot, the same image pulls him back to her: "Come un sole rosso acceso" [Like a red sun lit up], "Arde per me" [Burns for me]. By the second chorus the scene has gone bittersweet, a car pulling away while she chases it uselessly down the road, but the refrain comes back exactly as before, unbothered by how the story ended.