La mar es larga bateu de bòsc
luenh es la còsta
marea bassa ondas sul vis
tot es salat
terra promessa aquel pais
coma un miratge
en la memòria desert perdut
vers l'orizont
Que nos espera s'aquel costat,
tremps de miseria
tempesta fòrta vent de mistral
vai arribar
destin migrant vers l'avenir,
l'abis se duerb
nòste futur se vai pausar
au som dau mar
I nòsti vielhs l'avian ja fach
aquel passat pas luenh es aqui denant
pòrt d'Argentina, merchat de Paris
trobar un pòst onte poder manjar onte poder somelhar
un futur per las meinàas, avenir pas donat,
lo present es aqui denant que nos parla dau passat
que nos parla …escotem!
un Cristo que se chama Allah
...Africa Asia Medi Orient
pel brusàa, solelh e set
estòrias diversas sus l' esquina, estessa vuelha de futur
podem far finta de ren veire, sarrar la ment e les aurelhas,
poden beicar arrier, campar la man
novel futur vai començar
Deriva en l'espaci, sul pichòt monde se siem trobats
aqui migrants lo siem tuchi lo siem encar
l'estòria retorna, en rier e anant
coma ondas en lo mar, coma la ment en lo temps
jamai solets se trobarem
s'aquel balon
borrat de gent
en mes de l'espaci vueit e nier
quarcòsa de bon lo trobarem,
es pas tresòr d'òr e d'argent
mas es la vida, lo filament,
dis que tuchi siem istés, estiças d'aiga en la corrent
la mescla es deman present
futur onte nais lo Temps
luenh es la còsta
marea bassa ondas sul vis
tot es salat
terra promessa aquel pais
coma un miratge
en la memòria desert perdut
vers l'orizont
Que nos espera s'aquel costat,
tremps de miseria
tempesta fòrta vent de mistral
vai arribar
destin migrant vers l'avenir,
l'abis se duerb
nòste futur se vai pausar
au som dau mar
I nòsti vielhs l'avian ja fach
aquel passat pas luenh es aqui denant
pòrt d'Argentina, merchat de Paris
trobar un pòst onte poder manjar onte poder somelhar
un futur per las meinàas, avenir pas donat,
lo present es aqui denant que nos parla dau passat
que nos parla …escotem!
un Cristo que se chama Allah
...Africa Asia Medi Orient
pel brusàa, solelh e set
estòrias diversas sus l' esquina, estessa vuelha de futur
podem far finta de ren veire, sarrar la ment e les aurelhas,
poden beicar arrier, campar la man
novel futur vai començar
Deriva en l'espaci, sul pichòt monde se siem trobats
aqui migrants lo siem tuchi lo siem encar
l'estòria retorna, en rier e anant
coma ondas en lo mar, coma la ment en lo temps
jamai solets se trobarem
s'aquel balon
borrat de gent
en mes de l'espaci vueit e nier
quarcòsa de bon lo trobarem,
es pas tresòr d'òr e d'argent
mas es la vida, lo filament,
dis que tuchi siem istés, estiças d'aiga en la corrent
la mescla es deman present
futur onte nais lo Temps
inviata da Bernart Bartleby - 18/12/2019 - 21:19
Lingua: Inglese
Traduzione inglese da bandcamp
ADRIFT
The sea is a large wooden boat
far is the coast
low tide, waves on my face
everything is salty
promised land is that village
as a mirage
in the memory boundless desert
towards the horizon
What is ahead of us on the other side
We, drenched in misery
storm and high onshore wind
are coming
migrant destiny towards the future
the abyss opens out
our future rests
on the sea bed
Our forefathers had already done it
That recent past is in front of us
port in Argentine, market in Paris
finding a place where you can eat, where you can dream
a future for your kids, a future not given as a gift
our present is facing us and talks about our past
it talks… let’s listen!
A Christ named Allah
… Africa Asia Middle East
burnt skin, sun and thirst
different stories, on our back the same lust for future
we can pretend that we don’t see it, we can close our mind and ears
we can look back
hold out our hands
a new future is about to start
Adrift in the space, we found ourselves on this small planet
here we are all migrant people and we still are
history comes back again, forwards and backwards
like the waves in the sea, like the mind through time
we will never be alone
on this ball, packed with people
in the middle of the black empty space
we will find something good for us
it’s not a golden and silver treasure
but it’s life, it’s the thread
that tells us that we are all the same, water drops in the current
the mixture is the present-tomorrow-future
where Time begins
The sea is a large wooden boat
far is the coast
low tide, waves on my face
everything is salty
promised land is that village
as a mirage
in the memory boundless desert
towards the horizon
What is ahead of us on the other side
We, drenched in misery
storm and high onshore wind
are coming
migrant destiny towards the future
the abyss opens out
our future rests
on the sea bed
Our forefathers had already done it
That recent past is in front of us
port in Argentine, market in Paris
finding a place where you can eat, where you can dream
a future for your kids, a future not given as a gift
our present is facing us and talks about our past
it talks… let’s listen!
A Christ named Allah
… Africa Asia Middle East
burnt skin, sun and thirst
different stories, on our back the same lust for future
we can pretend that we don’t see it, we can close our mind and ears
we can look back
hold out our hands
a new future is about to start
Adrift in the space, we found ourselves on this small planet
here we are all migrant people and we still are
history comes back again, forwards and backwards
like the waves in the sea, like the mind through time
we will never be alone
on this ball, packed with people
in the middle of the black empty space
we will find something good for us
it’s not a golden and silver treasure
but it’s life, it’s the thread
that tells us that we are all the same, water drops in the current
the mixture is the present-tomorrow-future
where Time begins
inviata da Bernart Bartelby - 18/12/2019 - 21:20
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