Os dias são longos porque há sempre um destino ao fim deles; há sempre uma hora marcada com a tempestade. Ela espera…
Mas hoje o dia é mais pequeno para tantas voltas: o despertar da noite, a visão distante da vila de Mandela enquanto visitávamos o estúdio de um amigo com um sério problema de localização de chaves, a chegada da Susana; a solidão das horas e o despertar da noite. A alcateia está junta de novo.
Então voltamos, não sei se posso dizer ao “coração de Roma”, mas certamente é um retorno ao meu.
Esta noite tem laivos de sol – e já há dias que não vejo o sol. Nem de quando em vez nem tão pouco de vez em quanto. Tem sido ausente deste delírio. Beba do Samba tem ascendência brasileira: é feito de sonhos e olhos bem atentos. É conhecedor do silêncio e basta. Por entre os dedos do Jorri nas teclas de um piano que a velhice não desafinou precipitámos o nosso lobo para uma dança frenética no centro de um salão onde não cabia mais uma única pessoa. Por entre olhos semi-cerrados vi o sorriso do Francesco, o riso da Rossella e lá ao fundo, a espreitar do coração, a Lupa di Roma.
O meu coração transborda…
Ultimas palavras antes de te deixar partir: o pó da estrada que nos vem perseguindo há dias acompanha de perto todos os nossos movimentos e pulsações - quando um dia tudo isto for memória serás bem-vindo a este coração.
Joao Rui
The Light of Rome - The days are long because there is always a destiny at the end of them; there is always an appointment with the storm. She waits... But today is too short for so many turns: the awakening of the night, the distant view of the town of Mandela while visiting the studio of a friend with a serious problem of key location, the arrival of Susana, the hours of solitude and the awakening night. The pack is together again. So we return, and I don’t know if I can say to the "heart of Rome," but it certainly is a return to mine. This night has hints of sun - and it’s been days since I’ve last seen the sun. Not once in a while and certainly not every now and then. He has been absent of this delirium. Beba do Samba is a Brazilian offspring: it’s made of dreams and attentive eyes. He knows silence and that is enough. From Jorri’s fingers on the keys of an old grand piano of which age did not steal the tuning, we rushed our wolf to a frenzied dance in the center of a room where could not fit another single person. Among half-closed eyes I saw the smile of Francesco, the laughter of Rossella and there in the background, peaking, la Lupa di Roma. My heart overflows... Last words before I let you go: the dust of the road which has been chasing for days and closely monitoring our every move and heartbeat - one day, when all of this is memory you will be welcome back to this heart. Joao Rui
The Light of Rome - The days are long because there is always a destiny at the end of them; there is always an appointment with the storm. She waits... But today is too short for so many turns: the awakening of the night, the distant view of the town of Mandela while visiting the studio of a friend with a serious problem of key location, the arrival of Susana, the hours of solitude and the awakening night. The pack is together again. So we return, and I don’t know if I can say to the "heart of Rome," but it certainly is a return to mine. This night has hints of sun - and it’s been days since I’ve last seen the sun. Not once in a while and certainly not every now and then. He has been absent of this delirium. Beba do Samba is a Brazilian offspring: it’s made of dreams and attentive eyes. He knows silence and that is enough. From Jorri’s fingers on the keys of an old grand piano of which age did not steal the tuning, we rushed our wolf to a frenzied dance in the center of a room where could not fit another single person. Among half-closed eyes I saw the smile of Francesco, the laughter of Rossella and there in the background, peaking, la Lupa di Roma. My heart overflows... Last words before I let you go: the dust of the road which has been chasing for days and closely monitoring our every move and heartbeat - one day, when all of this is memory you will be welcome back to this heart. Joao Rui
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