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Tregua

Finita la giornata di lavoro, prima del solito stasera.

Direzione ovest. Il sole ancora alto, di fronte, caldo.

Occhiali da sole e lo sguardo in faccia a quel sole, mentre guido verso casa.

Finestrini abbassati, il vento entra, vortica, piacevole, tra me, i pensieri e il sole. È fresco.

La sigaretta nella mano sinistra mischia il suo fumo ai flussi dell’aria che accarezzano i capelli.

Un tratto di campagna a destra e sinistra, e improvvisi si alzano in volo degli storni al termine del loro pasto o disturbati, forse, dal mio passaggio.

Passano vicini. Volano…loro.

Risuonano dallo stereo ad alto volume tre pezzi meravigliosi degli R.E.M.

Hanno sempre avuto il potere di rilassarmi gli R.E.M., chissà per quale matematico gioco di alchimie musicali.

Mi rilasso, respiro.

Estate, caldo…sorrido.

È tregua.

Pace…un attimo di pace.

Everybody Hurts (R.E.M.)

When your day is long
And the night, the night is yours alone
When you’re sure you’ve had enough
Of this life, well hang on

Don’t let yourself go
‘Cause everybody cries
And everybody hurts sometimes

Sometimes everything is wrong
Now it’s time to sing along
When your day is night alone (Hold on, hold on)
If you feel like letting go (Hold on)
If you think you’ve had too much
Of this life, well hang on

Everybody hurts
Take comfort in your friends
Everybody hurts
Don’t throw your hand, oh no

Don’t throw your hand
If you feel like you’re alone
No, no, no, you are not alone

If you’re on your own in this life
The days and nights are long
When you think you’ve had too much of this life to hang on

Well, everybody hurts sometimes
Everybody cries
Everybody hurts sometimes
And everybody hurts sometimes

So hold on, hold on
Hold on, hold on, hold on, hold on, hold on, hold on
Everybody hurts

Written by Bill Berry, Michael Stipe, Peter Buck, Michael Mills
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At My Most Beautiful (R.E.M.)

I’ve found a way to make you
I’ve found a way
A way to make you smile

I read bad poetry into your machine
I save your messages
Just to hear your voice.
You always listen carefully
To awkward rhymes.
You always say your name
Like I wouldn’t know it’s you,
At your most beautiful.

I’ve found a way to make you
I’ve found a way
A way to make you smile

At my most beautiful
I count your eyelashes secretly.
With every one, whisper I love you.
I let you sleep.
I know your closed eye watching me,
listening.
I thought I saw a smile.

I’ve found a way to make you
I’ve found a way
A way to make you smile.

Written by Bill Berry, Michael Stipe, Peter Buck, Michael Mills

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Nightswimming (R.E.M.)

Nightswimming deserves a quiet night.
The photograph on the dashboard, taken years ago,
Turned around backwards so the windshield shows.
Every streetlight reveals the picture in reverse.
Still, it’s so much clearer.
I forgot my shirt at the water’s edge.
The moon is low tonight.

Nightswimming deserves a quiet night.
I’m not sure all these people understand.
It’s not like years ago,
The fear of getting caught,
Of recklessness and water.
They cannot see me naked.
These things, they go away,
Replaced by everyday.

Nightswimming, remembering that night.
September’s coming soon.
I’m pining for the moon.
And what if there were two
Side by side in orbit
Around the fairest sun?
That bright, tight forever drum
Could not describe nightswimming.

You, I thought I knew you.
You I cannot judge.
You, I thought you knew me,
this one laughing quietly underneath my breath.
Nightswimming.

The photograph reflects,
Every streetlight a reminder.
Nightswimming deserves a quiet night, deserves a quiet night

Written by Bill Berry, Michael Stipe, Peter Buck, Michael Mills

 

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1 Commento (+aggiungi il tuo?)

  1. emcquadro
    Ago 04, 2016 @ 22:36:21

    Gruppo fantastico; geniale Stipe, un mix di poesia, inquietudine, malinconia, profondità ma con tanta energia.

    Mi piace

    Rispondi

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