Francesca

Hai un punto no que un desapégase e adícase á mera difusión de mensaxes polo valor desas mensaxes en si mesmo (e así debe ser, en calquer época e lugar; que llo pregunten a Nick Cave). Peñazo rollo cultureta, se se quere. Esto é unha lembranza de Ezra Pound e da adaptación que dun poema seu fixo Luis Auserón no seu primeiro disco en solitario:

You came in out of the night
And there were flowers in your hand,
Now you will come out of a confusion of people,
Out of a turmoil of speech about you.

I who have seen you amid the primal things
Was angry when they spoke your name
In ordinary places.
I would that the cool waves might flow over my mind,
And that the world should dry as a dead leaf,
Or as a dandelion see-pod and be swept away,
So that I might find you again,
Alone.

Ao Auserón faltáballe voz por todos os lados, pero a canción estaba moi conseguida, moi guapa. A ver se a topo e a poño aquí.