In Bianco E Nero - Carmen Consoli

Guardo una fotodi mia madre

era felice avr avuto tre anni

stringeva al petto una bambola

il regalo pi ambito

Era la festa del suo compleanno

un bianco e nero sbiadito

Guardo mia madre a quei tempi e rivedo

il mio stesso sorriso

E pensare a quante volte

l’ho sentita lontana

E pensare a quante volte

Le avrei voluto parlare di me chiederle almeno il perch

dei lunghi ed ostili silenzi

e momenti di noncuranza

puntualmente mi dimostravo inflessibile

inaccessibile e fiera

intimamente agguerrita

temendo una sciocca rivalit

Guardo una foto di mia madre

era felice avr avuto vent’anni

capelli raccolti in un foulard di seta

ed una espressione svanita

Nitido scorcio degli anni sessanta

di una raggiante Catania

la scruto per filo e per segno e ritrovo

il mio stesso sguardo

E pensare a quante volte

l’ho sentita lontana

E pensare a quante volte

Le avrei voluto parlare di me chiederle almeno il perch

dei lunghi ed ostili silenzi

e di quella arbitraria indolenza

puntualmente mi dimostravo inflessibile

inaccessibile e fiera

intimamente agguerrita temendo

l’innata rivalit

Le avrei voluto parlare di me chiederle almeno il perch

Le avrei voluto parlare di me chiederle almeno il perch

I look at a photo of my mother

he was happy to have been three years old

he was holding a doll to his chest

the most coveted gift

It was his birthday party

a faded black and white

I look at my mother in those days and see again

my own smile

And think about how many times

I felt it far away

And think about how many times

I wanted to talk to her about me and ask her why at least

of long and hostile silences

and moments of carelessness

I promptly proved inflexible

inaccessible and proud

intimately fierce

fearing foolish rivalry

I look at a photo of my mother

she was happy to have been twenty

hair gathered in a silk scarf

and a faded expression

Sharp glimpse of the sixties

of a radiant Catania

I scrutinize it in detail and sign and I find it again

my own gaze

And think about how many times

I felt it far away

And think about how many times

I wanted to talk to her about me and ask her why at least

of long and hostile silences

and of that arbitrary indolence

I promptly proved inflexible

inaccessible and proud

intimately fierce fearing

the innate rivalry

I wanted to talk to her about me and ask her why at least

I wanted to talk to her about me and ask her why at least