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Art by Alberto Moravia

keskiviikko 13. huhtikuuta 2016

Think


Dedicated to all those who work quietly for honesty to win over corruption.
And to all those who loved the truth so much. 

To even sacrifice their own life to protect it. 

Dedicated to all the victims of the Italian mafia. They will never be forgotten.








Think 

Once there were men who wrote pages
Priceless notes of a lifetime that cannot be replaced
For they exposed the most corrupted among the systems, 
Which had been ignored for such a long time
Men or angels that were sent on Earth 
to fight a war of feuds and families spread like a bunch of marbles
On a bloody island that among a lot of wonders, among lemons and seashells
Murders sons and daughters of a generation 
That has been forced not to look, not to talk too loud, to turn off the light 
To comment peacefully on every bullet in the air, on every corpse in a trench
Once there were men, who one step by another left their mark,
with courage and commitment, with dedication 
against an organized association, "Cosa Nostra" (Thing that belongs to us), thing that belongs to you!
What does belong to you?
It's up to us to say without restrictions that the aim of the eyes is to see , the mouth's is to talk
Ears do not just listen to music .
The head turns around and adjusts itself, it thinks 
Sometimes it condemns, sometimes it forgives.
Just think, before shooting, think, before arguing and judging, try to think
Think that it's up to you to decide 
Stay for just a little while, a little bit longer and think. 
Once there were men, who died in their youth 
But they were aware that their ideas would not have died
Among the centuries, like mighty words
Undamaged and real like tiny little miracles
Ideas of equality, ideas of education, 
Against every man that overpowers the other human beings, the weaker ones
Against those who bury the conscience in the cement. Just think, before shooting, think, before arguing and judging, try to think
Think that it's up to you to decide 
Stay for just a little while, a little bit longer and think. 
Once there were men that kept carrying on
Even though everything had been burned around them
For this life has no meaning at all if you're afraid of a bomb or a aimed gun
Men pass by, and so does a song
But nobody will ever stop the belief that justice is not just an illusion. 
Think, before shooting, think, before arguing and judging, try to think
Think that it's up to you to decide 
Stay for just a little while, a little bit longer and think. 





Englannistoksen lähde, ja suuret kiitokset sinne.



Tämä musiikki sulatti sydämeni, jo ennen kuin tiesin, mitä siinä sanotaan, lukuunottamatta ranskasta helposti kääntämääni otsikkoa "Pensa" (penser, ransk. ajatella, pense, ransk, ajattele).

Kun luin englanninkielisen lyriikan, puhkesin itkuun. Ehkä se johtuu kovasta stressistä praktikumtutkimuksessani, missä käsittelen lyriikoihin viittaavia asioita, kuten ideologiaa ja viholliskuvan syntyä ja kasvua.

Ehkä se johtuu jostain sieluni vielä aukeamattomasta lukosta.

Ehkä se johtuu myös siitä, että uhrasin sananvapauteni joskus, että muut saisivat käyttää sitä, ja että rauha yhteiskunnassa säilyisi, eikä sitä uhria voi saada koskaan takaisin. Mielipiteeni ovat ikuisesti sidottu kieleni taakse, enkä koskaan enää kerro niitä ääneen.

Ehkä se johtuu siitä, että tämä musiikki on minulle kuin uusi kehotus käydä taistoon. Jokin sisälläni herää, kun kuuntelen tätä. En tunnista, mitä se on.

En tiedä miten. En tiedä kuka on vastustaja.

Ehkä tulevaisuus tulee sen näyttämään.