Monday, July 07, 2008
7 Julio 2008. Clearish skies, promise of a warm day. Characters before the window--tall guy with rumpled wavey hair, Ichabod Crane; finely-made black leather laptop bag, San Francisco bus. Blond girl in form-fitting skirt, folds of skin on back of her neck as she strains to catch sight of the G. Bag of groceries and supplies, something leafy and green on top...
La Pasto Verde, a song from the south. Neuquen--composer, folklorist and poet--Marcelo Berbel, singing with his sister, their flights and intertwinings, given modern form, but in the elaboration, old, old... Even more so, José Larralde, singing it as a lament--as with so many of his songs. Trayendo Pasados, the name of one album. Bringing yesterdays... or, carrying the past...
Quién te llamó pasto verde fresquita
tal vez tu aroma sintió,
poema de los desiertos
versos de un coplero que pasó...
Posted by Anthony Dubovsky at 9:41 AM
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