"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."

Chiara

Oggi mi hanno dedicato l’ennesima canzone… solo che questa volta non me l’aspettavo soprattutto per la persona da cui proviene la dedica. Grazie C, e tu come stai? Dove vai? Puoi telefonarmi, non ti mangio.

Chiara,
trasparente.
Chiara,
tutto e niente.
Storia
mai finita.
Come stai?
Chiara,
dell’acquario.
Chiara,
sguardo serio.
Aria
colorata,
meno male che non sei cambiata.
Dove vai?
Complice amica mia
in quella compagnia
su di noi le voci più maligne,
mentre la nostra idea d’amore
era parlarsi delle ore
e veder spuntare il sole,
ubriache come scimmie.
L’illusione di girare ancora un po’
sulle punte di una ballerina.
Chiara,
coraggiosa.
Chiara,
senza casa.
Sempre
innamorata,
è un peccato perdersi per strada.
Dove vai?
Complice amica mia
in quella compagnia
su di noi le voci più maligne,
mentre la nostra idea d’amore
era parlarsi delle ore
e veder spuntare il sole,
ubriache come scimmie.
L’illusione di girare ancora un po’
sulle punte di una ballerina.
L’emozione di provare a dire ‘no’
a una vita
che ogni giorno è come prima.

Spooktober

Spooktober 29 – The Black Monk (4)

Chapter 7 One long winter night Kovrin was lying in bed, reading a French novel. Poor Tanya, who had headaches in the evenings from living in town, to which she was not accustomed, had been asleep a long while, and, from time to time, articulated

Read More »
technology

Hey, teacher, leave the bumblebee alone

Every few months it comes back. A pencil drawing of a bee, a quote in a serif font, and different authorities invoked as the source: aerodynamically speaking, the bee cannot fly, but it doesn’t know that, so it flies anyway. It gets shared and liked,

Read More »
Spooktober

Spooktober 28 – The Black Monk (3)

Chapter 5 Glad that he had been so successful in the part of peacemaker, Kovrin went into the park. Sitting on a garden seat, thinking, he heard the rattle of a carriage and a feminine laugh — visitors were arriving. When the shades of evening

Read More »
Share on LinkedIn
Throw on Reddit
Roll on Tumblr
Mail it
1 Comment
  • utente anonimo
    Posted at 00:02h, 07 March Reply

    Di chi è questa canzone che ricordo di aver sentio per radio anni e anni e anni fa? almeno due decenni?
    Grazie
    R

Post A Comment

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

RELATED POSTS

Spooktober 29 – The Black Monk (4)

Chapter 7 One long winter night Kovrin was lying in bed, reading a French novel. Poor Tanya, who had headaches in the evenings from living in town, to which she was not accustomed, had been asleep a long while, and, from time to time, articulated

Read More

Hey, teacher, leave the bumblebee alone

Every few months it comes back. A pencil drawing of a bee, a quote in a serif font, and different authorities invoked as the source: aerodynamically speaking, the bee cannot fly, but it doesn’t know that, so it flies anyway. It gets shared and liked,

Read More

Spooktober 28 – The Black Monk (3)

Chapter 5 Glad that he had been so successful in the part of peacemaker, Kovrin went into the park. Sitting on a garden seat, thinking, he heard the rattle of a carriage and a feminine laugh — visitors were arriving. When the shades of evening

Read More