youtube/watch?v=iVMflNIU30Y I, Primo by name as the firstborn of five brothers, A man of the wood, of the river, of work and poverty But a man serene inside as the fish or the birds Sharing with me the sky, the water and liberty… Why am I in prison forever, here in this plain Where the horizons run after each other ever since, Where the unceasing wind blows unending fear into me, Where I can never perceive the form of a mountain? And when I am covered with frozen snow in winter Its not the same snow my feet used to sink in, My strong and sure steps tracking the feeble trail Left by the fox, or the heavier spoor of the badger… I wiped off my memories, dont know why I have fallen, But I recall seasons when after unshining sunrays Suddenly came the all-encompassing absolute cold And then moans and cries and curses and shootings… You see the war, what a cheat, what a puerile joke, I, who had never walked a long way off before, Ive seen my bit of the world from behind a gun, Ive seen other people only in the foresight… And we are many covered with frozen snow, No more race or uniform, but theres only the winter And then this bastard, windswept summer And then only we, only we who are dead forever. I, who looked at life with quiet boldness What would I give to look at the smell of my mountains, To see the leaves of a Turkey oak, the tangling beech, To see again in the husk the miracle of the chestnut.
Posted on: Sun, 23 Mar 2014 10:37:23 +0000
Trending Topics
Recently Viewed Topics
© 2015