La memoria
León GiecoEnglish Version by Riccardo Venturi | |
LA MEMORIA I vecchi amori che sono finiti l'illusione di chi tutto ha perduto tanti progetti che sono svaniti, e chi in qualche guerra è già caduto, di tutto ciò rimane la memoria sogno della vita e della storia. I depistaggi e le complicità con gli assassini che ora sono assolti, l’indulto e quella ingiusta impunità per l’inferno in cui erano coinvolti, di tutto ciò rimane la memoria sogno della vita e della storia La memoria ferisce per svegliare i popoli dormienti che non la fan volare libera come il vento. Cercare i cittadini imprigionati senza ottenere alcun ritrovamento, vedere l’abbondanza e gli affamati, i torturati e il loro patimento. Tutto resta inchiodato alla memoria spina dell’esistenza e della storia. Duemila mangerebbero in un anno al costo di un minuto militare e più non ci sarebbe nessun schiavo al prezzo di una bomba dentro al mare. Tutto resta inchiodato alla memoria spina dell’esistenza e della storia. La memoria riesce ad annientare Il popolo che tace e non la fa volare libera come il vento. | MEMORY The old loves now faded away, the old illusions of the losers, all the promises going away, and those who fell in some war. Everything is kept in memory, the dream of life and history. Deception and complicty of genocidaires being still free, the indult and the Punto Final for the beasts of that hell. Everything is kept in memory, the dream of life and history. Memory awakens to injure the peoples fallen asleep that don’t let it live free like the wind. The desaparecidos we’re looking for with the color of their birth hunger and abundance coming together mistreatment with bad memories. Everything is fixed* in memory, the thorn of life and history. Two thousand would eat for a year with what a military minute costs how many would stop being slaves for the prince of one bomb thrown to the sea. Everything is fixed* in memory, the thorn of life and history. Memory stabs until it bleeds the peoples that hold it and don’t let it go free like the wind. All the victims of AMIA, and those of the Israeli Embassy, the secret power of weapons a justice system looking but unable to see. Everything is hidden in memory, the refuge of life and history. It was when the churches kept silent, it was when soccer devoured everything when the Pallottian Father and Angelelli left their blood in the mud. Everything is hidden in memory, the refuge of life and history. Memory keeps blasting until it defeats the peoples that trample on it and that don’t let it be free like the wind. The bullet for Chico Mendes in Brazil, 150,000 Guatemalans, the miners facing guns, the repression of students in Mexico. Everything is charged into memory, weapon of life and history. America with its destroyed sould, the children killed by the death squad, Mugica tortured in the slums, the dignity of Rodolfo Walsh. Everything is charged into memory, weapon of life and history. Memory aims until it kills the peoples that silence it and don’t let it fly free like the wind. |
* clavar is also "torture, torment": Las espinas clavaron a Jesús. |