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Agnese

[..] fair thee well my own Aisling,

at night fond dreams of you still hunt me..

fair across the grey North Sea.

And the wind it blows from the north and south,

to the east and to the west..

I'll be like the wind, for I will know no rest,

'til I return to thee [...]
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November 20

la giravolta

 
King of Carrot Flowers pt. 1
 
When you were young you were the king of carrot flowers
and how you built a tower tumbling through the trees
in holy rattlesnakes that fell all around your feet

and your mom would stick a fork right into daddy's shoulder
and dad would throw the garbage all across the floor
as we would lay and learn what each other's bodies were for

and this is the room one afternoon I knew I could love you
and from above you how I sank into your soul
into that secret place where no one dares to go

and your mom would drink until she was no longer speaking
and dad would dream of all the different ways to die
each one a little more than he could dare to try
 
Neutral Milk Hotel, 1998
 
questi sono i giorni dei miracoli e delle domande questa è la grande distanza a chiamare il modo in cui la telecamera ci segue a  r  a  l  l  e  n  t  a  t  o  r  e il modo in cui noi tutti ci guardiamo il modo in cui guardiamo una l o n t a n a  c o s t e l l a z i o n e   c h e   s t a   m o r e n d o   i n   u n   a n g o l o   d e l   c i e l o  questi sono i giorni dei miracoli e delle domande non piangere non piangere non piangere
 
ilavororivelauncertomiglioramentonellacomprensionedellestrutturelinguisticheunapprezzabilesforzointerpretativo
hoceratinvotis.vediamodinondemordere.
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August 31

Selling England by the Pound

 

I am in the English Channel, it is cold, exceedingly wet.

I am the voice of Britain before the Daily Express.

my name is Britannia. this is my song. it's called: Dancing with the Moonlit Knight.

 
Peter Gabriel with Genesis, live in 1973 http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RdD6L4cKKU8
...
the Captain leads his dance right on through the night - join the dance... Follow on! Till the Grail sun sets in the mould. Follow on! Till the gold is cold. Dancing out with the moonlit knight, Knights of the Green Shield stamp and shout..
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June 22

I

Sono nato in una botte in fondo ad un fienile; la luce cadeva sulle mie palpebre chiuse, così, i primi otto giorni, tutto mi sembrò rosa. L'ottavo fu ancora meglio; guardai e vidi una grande pioggia di luce sull'ombra nera, dove danzavano la polvere e gli insetti. Il fieno era caldo ed odoroso; i ragni dormivano appesi alle ragnatele; i moscerini ronzavano; tutti avevano un'aria felice. Imbaldanzito, volli toccare la chiazza bianca dove turbinavano quei piccoli diamanti, che raggiungeva il tetto con una colonna dorata. Rotolai come una palla, mi bruciai gli occhi, mi ammaccai i fianchi; soffocai e tossii fino a sera.
 
da "Vita e Opinioni filosofiche di un gatto" di Hippolyte Taine
a cura di Giuseppe Scaraffia
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December 26

then "liberty" be your motto..

 

Ecco una canzone che parla dell'impegno in politica..

una ballata tradizionale irlandese

con un arrangiamento energico e romantico.

tratta da "Evening comes early" di John Doyle, ex-chitarrista dei Solas.

 

The wheels of the world

 

John: Come all of you true sons of Erin, attend to these few nimble lines

I'll sing you a song about spinning. It was a good trade in earl time
now some they spun worsted and yarn, and some they spun flax and tow
by experience, my friends, you can learn how the wheels of the world.. how they do go

 

Mairead/John: William Pitt was a good spinner, and so was Lord Castlereagh
is one of the Union for Ireland to England they shipped it away

Pitt spun out his existence, and he took a long trip on a boat
Lord Castlereagh saved the distance, by cutting the rim of his throat

 

Mairead: Napoleon he was a great spinner, he freedom did always advance
through deserts and high lofty mountains, marched with the brave sons of France
Wellington he went a-spinning. His wheels there were at Waterloo
but if Grouchy had never been bribed, the French would have split him in two

 

John: John Mitchell the true son of Erin, declared that a spinner he'd be
He set all his wheels in motion, his dear native land to set free
Mairead/John: But John Bull that crafty old tyrant, at spinning he was fully bent
And straight  to Van Dieman's island, the sons of Hibernia were sent

 

Mairead/John: The factory owners they are spinning. Their wheels they are turning away
and now they are expecting their hands to work thirteen hours a day
well they don't give a damn for the poor. they heed not their sighs nor their moans
don't give a pin if you work till you cut all the flesh off your bones

 

Mairead/John: And the rich they are all famous spinners, of that we’re all very sure
they are always contriving a scheme to drive down the rights of the poor
so if you're compelled to go spinning, let each all that your spindles are steel

Then "Liberty" then be your motto, and glory will turn your big wheel.

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May 13

scent of dried flowers

 
Io trascino negli occhi dei torrenti di acqua chiara..
non è mai detto.. che a canzoni si fan rivoluzioni e si possa far poesia?
 
Rosa rossa
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