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MUSIC

WHEN THE MUSIC BECOMES POETRY: The sky in a room, by Gino Paoli

THE SKY IN A ROOM When you’re here with me, this room has no walls but trees, infinite trees. When you’re here with me, this purple ceiling no, no longer exists. I see the sky above us, that we stay here abandoned, as if there was nothing left, nothing left in the world. Harmonious sounds, like an organ that vibrates ...

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WHEN THE MUSIC BECOMES POETRY: The song of lost love, by Fabrizio de André

THE SONG OF LOVE LOST   You remember blooming violets, with our words “we will not let us never, never and never.” I would tell you the same thing now, but as soon as they do, love, roses to wither. So for us, the love that pulls the hair is lost now, it just has a few listless caress and ...

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THE CARE – By Franco Battiato

THE CARE I’ll protect you from the fears of hypochondria from disturbances that will meet today for your street. Injustices and deceptions of your time, from the failures that your nature will attract. Will relieve you from pain and your mood swings, the obsessions of your delusions. Overcome the gravitational currents, space and light to not grow old. And heal ...

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ALMOST NOTHING: By Francis Cabrel

ALMOST NOTHING And that’s all I know to do, wind in bamboo chests, swathes of sky to your eyelids and others to hang on your neck. It is nothing to the ordinary sky, blue like you see everywhere, but I have put all my know-how and throughout our history below. You see, it’s almost nothing. It is so little. It’s ...

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THE SHADOW OF LIGHT: By Franco Battiato

THE SHADOW OF LIGHT “Defend me from opposing forces, the night, in my sleep, when I am not conscious, when my path is uncertain, And not leave me ever … Do not leave me ever! Carry me higher areas in one of your realms of tranquility: It’s time to leave this cycle of lifetimes. And not leave me ever,. Do ...

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SONG OF LOST LOVE: By Fabrizio de Andrè

SONG OF LOST LOVE “Remember blooming violets, with our words” there will never, ever, ever “. I would tell you the same things now, but how soon, fans love to dry the roses. So for us, the love that rips the hair is lost now, all that remains is some listless caress and tenderness. And when you are in your ...

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THE GARDENS IN MARCH, BY LUCIO BATTISTI: Rivers blue, hills and grasslands, where they run sweet melancholy

………………… “What year is it, that day is this is the time to live with you My hands tremble as you see no more and I have the soul in the depths immense skies, and immense love and then still love still love for you blue rivers and hills and grasslands where they run my sweet melancholy the universe is ...

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HARDLY ANYTHING, BY FRANCIS CABREL: When poetry feel into musical notes

“So here is all I am good at some wind blowing through bamboo chests, pieces of sky to be put on your eyelids and some more hung to your neck. It’s nothing but usual sky, some blue you can see everywhere, still I have put all my craft into it, on top of our whole story. You see, it’s hardly ...

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JE L’AIME A MOURIR, BY FRANCIS CABREL: When poetry feel into musical notes

“Moi je n’étais rien, mais voilà qu’aujourd’hui. Je suis le gardien du sommeil de ses nuits. Je l’aime à mourir. Vous pouvez détruire tout ce qu’il vous plaira, elle n’aura qu’à ouvrir l’espace de ses bras pour tout reconstruire, pour tout reconstruire. Je l’aime à mourir. Elle a gommé les chiffres des horloges du quartier. Elle a fait de ma ...

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I SING I SWIM, BY SEABEAR: When poetry feel into musical notes

“When the birds are sleeping, that’s when the trees sing, you left your winter clothes, and your teeth marks in my skin. So shake the leaves off the trees, watch them float down the stream. Your son, your daughter swimming in the water, and I miss you, even when you’re around, I’m a black cloud, sending lightning to the ground. ...

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