I live in the shadow of a hill
A hill of little shoes
I love but I shiver with a chill
A chill I never lose
I live, I love, but where are they?
Where are their lives, their loves?
All blown away
And every little shoe's a foot that never grew another day
If you could find a pair
And put them on the floor
Make a mark in the air
Like the marks beside your door
When you were growing
You'd see how tall they were
And the buckles and the laces
They could do up on their own
Or almost could
With their tongue tips barely showing
Tell you how small they were
And then you think of little faces
Looking fearfully alone
And how they stood
In their bare feet being tall for the last time
Just to be good
And that was all they were
They were like you in the same year
But you grew up
They were scarcely even here
Before they suddenly weren't there
And while you got dressed for bed
They did the same but they were led
Into another room instead
I live in the shadow of a hill
A hill of little shoes
I love, but I shiver with a chill
A chill I never lose
And I caught this cold
When I was chosen to grow old
In the shadow of a hill of little shoes
A hill of little shoes
I love but I shiver with a chill
A chill I never lose
I live, I love, but where are they?
Where are their lives, their loves?
All blown away
And every little shoe's a foot that never grew another day
If you could find a pair
And put them on the floor
Make a mark in the air
Like the marks beside your door
When you were growing
You'd see how tall they were
And the buckles and the laces
They could do up on their own
Or almost could
With their tongue tips barely showing
Tell you how small they were
And then you think of little faces
Looking fearfully alone
And how they stood
In their bare feet being tall for the last time
Just to be good
And that was all they were
They were like you in the same year
But you grew up
They were scarcely even here
Before they suddenly weren't there
And while you got dressed for bed
They did the same but they were led
Into another room instead
I live in the shadow of a hill
A hill of little shoes
I love, but I shiver with a chill
A chill I never lose
And I caught this cold
When I was chosen to grow old
In the shadow of a hill of little shoes
envoyé par Bernart Bartleby - 10/11/2016 - 13:17
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Parole di Clive James (1939-), poeta, scrittore e liricista australiano.
Musica di Pete Atkin
Nell’album di Atkin intitolato “Winter Spring”, pubblicato nel 2003