A dark week. Some humans would appear not to be humans.
Was watching to the latest from Paris tonight and a piece of music was playing in the background to the TV scenes. Then remembered that great scene from The Shawshank Redemption when Andy Dufresne played the opera music for his fellow inmates, locking the room door to prevent the prison officers turning it off. The description by Andy’s friend Red summed it up well:
I have no idea to this day what those two Italian ladies were singing about. Truth is, I don’t want to know. Some things are best left unsaid. I’d like to think they were singing about something so beautiful, it can’t be expressed in words, and makes your heart ache because of it. I tell you, those voices soared higher and farther than anybody in a grey place dares to dream. It was like some beautiful bird flapped into our drab little cage and made those walls dissolve away, and for the briefest of moments, every last man in Shawshank felt free.
Anyway, MB recognised the piece playing in the background tonight and thought it appropriate for today’s post. As frivolity does not seem appropriate and must take a break. For the week that’s in it.
MB won’t give you the Italian words, as neither he, like the Shawshank inmates, nor 99% of the HX blog followers can speak Italian. Far as MB is aware. But a few can speak English. So herewith:
Go, thoughts, on golden wings;
Go, settle upon the slopes and hills,
where warm and soft and fragrant are
the breezes of our sweet native land!
Greet the banks of the Jordan,
the towers of Zion …
Oh my country so beautiful and lost!
Or so dear yet unhappy!
Or harp of the prophetic seers,
why do you hang silent from the willows?
Rekindle the memories within our hearts,
tell us about the times that have gone by
Or similar to the fate of Solomon,
give a sound of lament;
or let the Lord inspire a concert
That may give to endure our suffering.