Pax tibi, Imma, mater mea
E così sono tre gli anni trascorsi. Ho pure indovinato il giorno giusto sotto questo azzurro violento, stemprato soltanto da innocue nuvolette bianche sulla dolce collina di Biumo.
Ho varcato il grande portale sovrastato da un enorme pronao sul quale campeggiava la scritta PAX. Mi sentivo stordito, una lieve vertigine. Pax tibi, avrei voluto dirtela, gridarla a voce alta, quella frase.
Ma era un ossimoro perché eri già in pace, sepolta sotto al tumulo di terra. Altro che se eri in pace! Di più: morta e defunta!
Mi sono avvicinato, sbagliando vialetto. Ormai sono tre anni che mi incammino incerto non sapendo mai dove andare di preciso. Sentivo il dolore, l’irrequietezza proprio tra ipocondrio e cuore. Avrei voluto chiudere gli occhi e inveire. Sì, che stupido: non pax tibi, ma pax mihi.
Questa, sì, la cercavo.
Con un mazzo di crisantemi posati tra una pianta ormai marcia, completamente nera, divorata dalla formiche. Inutile quel giallo acceso quando poi i fiori appassiscono e non rimane niente.
Credevo che mi sarei liberato da te. Invece eri lì presente, come un presagio nefasto. Pensavo alle critche piovutemi addosso da bambine poco più che puberi, sentenziando come se fossero già donne mature. Pensavo alle delusioni di chi aveva riposto in me fiducia per trovare conforto dei propri pianti di amori acerbi distrutti in un giorno di sole. Ai giorni passati con l’amante che ti odia, corrodendo anche quel piccolo germoglio che veniva falcidiato senza rancore.
Pax mihi, in un riflesso ontologico. Una carica di disperazione e di dispersione per non soffocare e non lasciarsi sopraffatti dalla vacuità di quell’effimera provocazione di un legame che, nonostante tutto, ci unisce e ci avvicina come una maledetta verità.
Mi sono inginocchiato, sfiorando con le labbra il duro e ruvido marmo della lapide. La fotografia ormai sbiadita, poco più che un riflesso opaco. Per fortuna: avrei potuto vedere ancora qualche somiglianza in quel volto. Almeno mi sono risparmiato confronti.
Ma tenue il messaggio così invece violenti il rancore e la turbolenza di dissapori non ancora cheti. Ero venuto per te, per dirti di lasciarmi in pace, di non tormentarmi più.
One Day – Asaf Avidan
One day baby, we’ll be old
Oh baby, we’ll be old
And think of all the stories that we could have toldOne day baby, we’ll be old
Oh baby, we’ll be old
And think of all the stories that we could have toldNo more tears, my heart is dry
I don’t laugh and I don’t cry
I don’t think about you all the time
But when I do, I wonder whyNo more tears, my heart is dry
I don’t laugh and I don’t cry
I don’t think about you all the time
But when I do, I wonder whyNo more tears, my heart is dry
I don’t laugh and I don’t cry
I don’t think about you all the time
But when I do, I wonder whyNo more tears, my heart is dry
I don’t laugh and I don’t cry
I don’t think about you all the time
But when I do, I wonder whyOne day baby, we’ll be old
Oh baby, we’ll be old
And think of all the stories that we could have toldOne day baby, we’ll be old
Oh baby, we’ll be old
And think of all the stories that we could have toldOne day baby, we’ll be old
Oh baby, we’ll be old
And think of all the stories that we could have toldOne day baby, we’ll be old
Oh baby, we’ll be old
And think of all the stories that we could have toldOne day baby, we’ll be old
Oh baby, we’ll be old
And think of all the stories that we could have toldOne day baby, we’ll be old
Oh baby, we’ll be old
And think of all the stories that we could have toldOne day baby, we’ll be old
Oh baby, we’ll be old
Oh baby, we’ll be oldOne day baby, we’ll be old
Oh baby, we’ll be old
And think of all the stories that we could have toldOne day baby, we’ll be old
Oh baby, we’ll be old
Oh baby, we’ll be old
Oh baby we’ll beOne day baby, we’ll be old
Oh baby, we’ll be old
And think of all the stories that we could have toldOne day baby, we’ll be old
Oh baby, we’ll be old
And think of all the stories that we could have toldOne day baby, we’ll be old
Oh baby, we’ll be old
Oh baby, we’ll be old
Oh baby we’ll beOne day baby, we’ll be old
Oh baby, we’ll be old
Think of all the stories that we could have toldOne day baby, we’ll be old
Oh baby, we’ll be old
And think of all the stories that we could have told
One day baby, we’ll be oldOh baby, we’ll be oldAnd think of all the stories that we could have toldOne day baby, we’ll be oldOh baby, we’ll be oldAnd think of all the stories that we could have toldNo more tears, my heart is dryI don’t laugh and I don’t cryI don’t think about you all the timeBut when I do, I wonder whyNo more tears, my heart is dryI don’t laugh and I don’t cryI don’t think about you all the timeBut when I do, I wonder whyNo more tears, my heart is dryI don’t laugh and I don’t cryI don’t think about you all the timeBut when I do, I wonder whyNo more tears, my heart is dryI don’t laugh and I don’t cryI don’t think about you all the timeBut when I do, I wonder whyOne day baby, we’ll be oldOh baby, we’ll be oldAnd think of all the stories that we could have toldOne day baby, we’ll be oldOh baby, we’ll be oldAnd think of all the stories that we could have toldOne day baby, we’ll be oldOh baby, we’ll be oldAnd think of all the stories that we could have toldOne day baby, we’ll be oldOh baby, we’ll be oldAnd think of all the stories that we could have toldOne day baby, we’ll be oldOh baby, we’ll be oldAnd think of all the stories that we could have toldOne day baby, we’ll be oldOh baby, we’ll be oldAnd think of all the stories that we could have toldOne day baby, we’ll be oldOh baby, we’ll be oldOh baby, we’ll be oldOne day baby, we’ll be oldOh baby, we’ll be oldAnd think of all the stories that we could have toldOne day baby, we’ll be oldOh baby, we’ll be oldOh baby, we’ll be oldOh baby we’ll beOne day baby, we’ll be oldOh baby, we’ll be oldAnd think of all the stories that we could have toldOne day baby, we’ll be oldOh baby, we’ll be oldAnd think of all the stories that we could have toldOne day baby, we’ll be oldOh baby, we’ll be oldOh baby, we’ll be oldOh baby we’ll beOne day baby, we’ll be oldOh baby, we’ll be oldThink of all the stories that we could have toldOne day baby, we’ll be oldOh baby, we’ll be oldAnd think of all the stories that we could have told
