Dedicato a 800 persone morte nello stretto di Sicilia, e che ora sono molte, molte di più!
A COLOUR ON THE SEA
I carry the memory of a fraternal scent
and I swear that if the winter of this life
that rocks me with a murdering hand
should come to an end, you will climb that hill by my side
From the place where you can see my sun-kissed home
with the black of the starry sky behind it,
there will be no more laments, no more fear
nor the blood shed because of this adventure
Whatever happens, I will be a petal in the sunshine,
a colour moving on top of a wave
and the blood of mine that drove me away,
I found it all together, screaming
And in the silence that fell from the depths
that tore me away from my home, from my world,
with the testament getting wet on my chest,
it becomes day once more while the sea is my bed
All I wanted was to get out of those fields,
away from the vision of those tired eyes:
no memories to keep, everything to be destroyed
for a life to be paid for
Whatever happens, I will be a petal in the sunshine,
a colour moving on top of a wave
and the blood of mine that drove me away,
I found it all together, screaming
And in the silence that fell from the depths
that tore me away from my home, from my world,
with the testament getting wet on my chest,
it becomes day once more while the sea is my bed
If I survive this silent winter
the caress of the eternal darkness,
I swear I will take you back to the sea
and this child who cannot swim
We will leave him for the days to come
with the certainty that does not wish to die
the certainty that our seed, planted in the salt,
will be a colour that will cause no more pain
Whatever happens, I will be a petal in the sunshine …