Incontro - Luciano Ligabue

E correndo mi incontrò lungo le scale

Quasi nulla mi sembrò cambiato in lei

La tristezza poi, ci avvolse come miele

Per il tempo scivolato su noi due

Il sole che calava già, rosseggiava la città

Già nostra e ora straniera e incredibile e fredda

Come un istante dèjà-vu, ombra della gioventù

Ci circondava la nebbia

Auto ferme ci guardavano in silenzio

Vecchi muri proponevano nuovi eroi

Dieci anni da narrare l’uno all’altro

Ma le frasi rimanevano dentro in noi

Cosa fai ora?

Ti ricordi?

Eran belli i nostri tempi

Ti ho scritto e un anno mi han detto

Che eri ancora via

E poi la cena a casa sua

La mia nuova cortesia

Stoviglie color nostalgia

E le frasi, quasi fossimo due vecchi

Rincorrevano solo il tempo dietro a noi

Per la prima volta vidi quegli specchi

Capii i quadri, i sopramobili ed i suoi

I nostri miti morti ormai

La scoperta di Hemingway

Il sentirsi nuovi, le cose sognate ora viste

La mia America e la sua diventate nella via

La nostra città così triste

Carte e vento volan via nella stazione

Freddo e luci accese, forse per noi, lì

Ed in fine, in breve, la sua situazione

Uguale, quasi, a tanti nostri films

Come in un libro scritto male

Lui si era ucciso per Natale

Ma il triste racconto sembrava assorbito dal buio

Povera amica che narravi

Dieci anni in poche frasi

E io i miei in un solo saluto

E pensavo, dondolato dal vagone

'cara amica, il tempo prende e il tempo dà.'

Noi corriamo sempre in una direzione

Ma quale sia e che senso abbia, chi lo sa?

E restano i sogni senza tempo

Le impressioni di un momento

Le luci nel buio

Le case intraviste da un treno

Siamo qualcosa che non resta

Frasi vuote nella testa

E il cuore, di simboli pieno

And as he ran he met me on the stairs

Almost nothing seemed to have changed in her

Then sadness enveloped us like honey

For the time it slipped on the two of us

The sun, which was already setting, was making the city red

Already ours and now foreign and incredible and cold

Like an instant dèjà-vu, shadow of youth

Fog surrounded us

Stationary cars watched us in silence

Old walls offered new heroes

Ten years to tell each other

But the sentences remained within us

What are you doing now?

Do you remember?

Our times were beautiful

I wrote to you and one year they told me

That you were still away

And then dinner at his house

My new courtesy

Nostalgia-colored crockery

And the sentences, as if we were two old men

They were just chasing the time behind us

For the first time I saw those mirrors

I understood the paintings, the ornaments and his

Our myths dead now

Hemingway's discovery

Feeling new, the things you dream of now seen

My America and hers become in the street

Our city so sad

Papers and wind fly away in the station

Cold and lights on, perhaps for us, there

And finally, in short, his situation

Almost the same as many of our films

Like in a badly written book

He had killed himself for Christmas

But the sad tale seemed absorbed in darkness

Poor friend you were telling

Ten years in a few sentences

And I mine in one greeting

And I thought, rocked from the wagon

'dear friend, time takes and time gives.'

We always run in one direction

But what is it and what sense does it have, who knows?

And timeless dreams remain

The impressions of a moment

The lights in the dark

The houses glimpsed from a train

We are something that does not remain

Empty phrases in the head

And the heart, full of symbols