Adriano Celentano
Forever
I am fascinated by the mystery of the lives
that unravel along the chessboard
the days and streets, faded photos
memories of twenty years, of one evening
I am involved in the eternal dripping
of time over the face of a passerby
and wondering if in his features appears
the insult of a death or a lover
The world seen with asphalt eyes
Chasing the ballet of the hours
We who know where we were born
but we will never know where we die
I like rummaging through the memories
of other people, winters or springs
to lose or find connections
in the apparent chaos of a second-hand shop
Paintings for which someone has been posing
A telescope that looked at a point
A globe, two jewels, a rose
Junk once beautiful and now worn
Objects that someone perhaps loved
Now they lie there without an owner
/>without function, without history or state
in the interweaving of chance or reason
And my life falls into other lives
and I feel only a point
along the lucid and infinite straight line
of an immobile and presumed mechanism
You are those who came before
whom you have partly known and those after
who you will not know like a rhyme
vibrant, beautiful, but without purpose
You will not know and you do not know this pain
that you sift through the meshes of your sieve
it fades a little when contemplating a flower
it is forgotten between the pages of a book
Because you can't do without other lives
even stolen from pages you leaf through
idly and ambiguously you have absorbed them
from invented ghosts that you undress
Clothing yourself in them little by little
as if you discovered yourself in a mirror
the Dublin man or the last Mohican
who at 25 felt old
Because the ours is insufficient as soon as
we unconsciously mix its meaning
we are the naive actors on a scene
of a mysterious stage...
and immense

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