Yesterday I was in Modena, the homeland of Pierangelo Bertoli, a respected Italian songwriter. And this piece from 1975 came to mind - fifty years old, yet it feels as if it were written today, for how relevant its message still is.
Some poems are timeless.
I’m sharing the link and a translation of the lyrics.
And Yet It Blows
And the water fills with foam, the sky with smoke,
the chemical leprosy destroys the life of rivers,
birds that barely fly, already sick with death,
cold interest has barred the doors against life.
An entire island has found its grave in the sea,
false progress wanted to test a bomb,
then rain that should quench the thirst of living earth
instead brings death, for it is radioactive.
And yet the wind still blows,
splashing water on the ships’ bows,
whispering songs among the leaves,
kissing the flowers, kissing them but never picking them.
One day money discovered world war,
it branded its rotten mark on beastly instinct,
it killed, it burned, it destroyed in a sorrowful litany,
and all the earth was wrapped in a black shroud.
And soon the hidden key to new secrets,
so they will cover even the planets with mud,
they will want to pollute the stars, bring war among suns,
the crimes against life they call mere mistakes.
And yet the wind still blows,
splashing water on the ships’ bows,
whispering songs among the leaves,
kissing the flowers, kissing them but never picking them,
and yet it brushes the fields,
caresses the flanks of the mountains,
tangles the hair of women,
races in flight with the birds.
And yet the wind still blows!!!
