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martes, 10 de febrero de 2009

27 años

Es una cosa seria
tener ventisiete años
en realidad es una
de las cosas más serias
en derredor se mueren los amigos
de la infancia ahogada
y empieza a dudar uno
de su inmoralidad.

Roque Daltón

De Taberna y otros lugares, premio Casa de las Américas 1969.

1 comentario:

Jacko dijo...

Gracias por traer a colación este texto, que desconocía.

27 años...
27 años...
No es una cifra casual.

Cuando cumplí 27 años me regalé un CD de Dougie McLean con esta canción: "Rite of passage", todo un poema de Escocia, y todo un canto del paso a la adultez real, ese verano de la vida:

Take the young ones to the desert
teach them how the arrow flies
How to smell the beast upon the wind
and run with mother nature’s loving lies

Show them how to balance
what is wrong and what is right
And make their own directions
through the longest darkest night

Oh you need that rite of passage
before you can continue on
That brave self understanding
you can lean your dreams upon

You may want for children
you may crave for man and wife
But you need that rite of passage
to the summer of your life

Show the children to the master,
put the tools into their hands
Show them how to work the grain
and how to hold the ever moving sand

Place with them the knowledge
of the far and of the near
And lead them through the waiting storms
that will never ever clear

It’s a sad deluded vision
this creature of our time
It’s body now is broken,
it’s smile it rarely has the chance to shine

It stands so high and mighty
with its never ending needs
While somewhere in the beating heart
the earth it vainly pleads

Cuando cumplí 28 me regalé el CD "Twentysomething" de Jamie Cullum, con su tema homónimo, algo así como un deseo de no dejar de ser veinteañero jamás...:

After years of expensive education,
a car full of books and anticipation,
I’m an expert on Shakespeare and that’s a hell of a lot
but the world don't need scholars as much as I thought.

Maybe I'll go travelling for a year,
finding myself or start a career.
I could work for the poor though I’m hungry for fame
we all seem so different but we're just the same.

Maybe I'll go to the gym, so I don't get fat,
aren't things more easy with a tight six pack?
Who knows the answers? Who do you trust?
I can't even separate love from lust.

Maybe I’ll move back home and pay off my loans,
working nine to five answering phones.
Don't make me live for my friday nights,
drinking eight pints and getting in fights.

I don't want to get up, just let me lie in,
leave me alone, I'm a twenty something.

Maybe I'll just fall in love that could solve it all,
philosophers say that that’s enough,
there surely must be more. Ooooh

Love ain’t the answer nor is work,
the truth eludes me so much it hurts.
But I’m still having fun and I guess that's the key,
I'm a twenty something and I'll keep being me.


I’m a twenty something.
Let me lie in, Leave me alone.
I’m a twenty something.

Cuando cumplí 29...
No me regalé nada.
Ya era muy tarde