"All this he saw, for one moment breathless and intense, vivid on the morning sky; and still, as he looked, he lived; and still, as he lived, he wondered."

11 dicembre

victorian christmas tree ornament

Hanno ucciso a San Cristobal
Lo dice la radio e lo dicono le sirene
Che vanno e vengono
Sono morti Pepe e Carlos
E la mamma di Amaris di fianco a dona Francisca
E Josè è volato via
Escucha, mi vida, escucha
Come volano grida e parole
Per quanto tempo andrà avanti
La stessa canzone?

E’ Natale a San Cristobal
I soldati ci guardano e marciano lungo le strade
E i vetri tremano
Sono buie le cattedrali
I vecchi si incontrano agli angoli dei cimiteri
E le donne pregano
Escucha, mi vida, escucha
Come volano pianti e parole
Per quanto staremo a cantare
La stessa canzone?
Notte nera, notte che andrà
No llores nino, no llores mi amor

Piove forte a San Cristobal
Su preti stanchi, su pozzi e case bruciate
Su capanne e su villaggi
Cade acqua sui marciapiedi
Sui turisti stranieri e i feriti negli ospedali
Sui fucili e sugli altari
Escucha, mi vida, escucha
Come volano spari e parole
Per quanto tempo andrà avanti
La stessa canzone?

(Modena City Ramblers, Natale a San Cristobal)

Vorrei ringraziare tutti coloro presso i quali questo mio calendario dell’avvento (iniziato un po’ in ritardo) sta avendo tanto successo. Trovarvi un lavoro, invece di mandarmi insulsi messaggi privati, potrebbe essere un’ottima idea. Ma anche uno hobby andrebbe bene (purché non mi ricapitiate tra i piedi come tolkieniani). Vi apprezzo un sacco.

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