Nimble steps,
quiet steps.
I know it is you trying to figure out
the rhythm of your stride.
You should try quieter,
In order not to disturb the broken nature you live in.
You should try louder,
In order to blend in with all the world noise.
When both sides fall
A balanced tangle of weepings
Will make the distance small,
Will worm his way into your skin
Until you will be too close to the place
Where everything is about to begin,
And finally you will know
How it feels to rely on someone.
The music is your world
And your escape from the world:
You can feel it while you play your violin
You can feel it when you sing
You can feel it in your dad`s voice
You can feel it flowing in your veins
And you just hope that feeling remains.
Your mission is to bring it to everyone
To the children, to the teenagers,
To the teachers, to your friends,
To the flowers, to the strangers.
You want them to feel the melody,
To sing it out loud
In order to lock it up
In the whitest cloud.
And you like to believe
If they whistled it
Nothing would never be wrong
And all their melodies together
Would flow into the universe song.
You would like to see
That love every song talks about
The one that starts from a sunset on the sea
Or the one about two people with the same soul
But you know it’s almost impossible
Because you are still untouchable.
I imagine you in your home in Sicily,
Around you just fruit trees,
Beaches and sea.
A sandwich with ham and cheese
In the right hand
A good and relaxing book
In the other hand.
The beauty of your land
Is about the simplest things
-The ones we call little marvels-
But suddenly they have wings
They flow away with the time
However you are not upset:
You know it is not over yet.
You believe we can find them anywhere
Even in our Milan
The greyest city of all times
We just have to change our point of view
And figure out which path we should go through.
Together we are still
looking for something
That could give us chills
But it is hard to find
In a world we can not design:
We will need to climb mountains,
To cross this river in flood
If we really want to hear
the sound of our genuine blood.
Your name is antique
I am sure you know its meaning
Because it comes from Greek:
Agata indicates a virtuous woman
But it doesn’t mean you can’t have any rocking.
Once i’ve been told that while we’re walking
We should look up at the sky:
I want you to know
If you look at it
It will remind you
That we all share the same heart
Therefore never can tear us apart;
It will remind you
Even if we are on the opposite sides of the world
We share the same sky:
For sure It is upside down
But i will come back home
I just need to turn around.
-Carollo