Hurricane

Día de subidón! ¡¡Me encantan los jueves!! A parte de que el sr. Big dice que son los jueves del amor!! son el preludio del día del pinchito, del día laboral más corto de la semana, y del comienzo del finde :) ¡¡VIVAN LOS JUEVES!!

La canción - estado de ánimo de hoy es Hurricane, de Bob Dylan, y aunque es la triste historia de Hurricane Carter, me da subidón!
La comparto con vosotros, a ver si se contagia algo





Hurricane (Bob Dylan)

Pistol shots ring out in the barroom night
Enter Patty Valentine from the upper hall.
She sees the bartender in a pool of blood,
Cries out, "My God, they killed them all!"
Here comes the story of the Hurricane,
The man the authorities came to blame
For somethin' that he never done.
Put in a prison cell, but one time he could-a been
The champion of the world.

Three bodies lyin' there does Patty see
And another man named Bello, movin' around mysteriously.
"I didn't do it," he says, and he throws up his hands
"I was only robbin' the register, I hope you understand.
I saw them leavin'," he says, and he stops
"One of us had better call up the cops."
And so Patty calls the cops
And they arrive on the scene with their red lights flashin'
In the hot New Jersey night.

Meanwhile, far away in another part of town
Rubin Carter and a couple of friends are drivin' around.
Number one contender for the middleweight crown
Had no idea what kinda shit was about to go down
When a cop pulled him over to the side of the road
Just like the time before and the time before that.
In Paterson that's just the way things go.
If you're black you might as well not show up on the street
'Less you wanna draw the heat.

Alfred Bello had a partner and he had a rap for the cops.
Him and Arthur Dexter Bradley were just out prowlin' around
He said, "I saw two men runnin' out, they looked like middleweights
They jumped into a white car with out-of-state plates."
And Miss Patty Valentine just nodded her head.
Cop said, "Wait a minute, boys, this one's not dead"
So they took him to the infirmary
And though this man could hardly see
They told him that he could identify the guilty men.

Four in the mornin' and they haul Rubin in,
Take him to the hospital and they bring him upstairs.
The wounded man looks up through his one dyin' eye
Says, "Wha'd you bring him in here for? He ain't the guy!"
Yes, here's the story of the Hurricane,
The man the authorities came to blame
For somethin' that he never done.
Put in a prison cell, but one time he could-a been
The champion of the world.

Four months later, the ghettos are in flame,
Rubin's in South America, fightin' for his name
While Arthur Dexter Bradley's still in the robbery game
And the cops are puttin' the screws to him, lookin' for somebody to blame.
"Remember that murder that happened in a bar?"
"Remember you said you saw the getaway car?"
"You think you'd like to play ball with the law?"
"Think it might-a been that fighter that you saw runnin' that night?"
"Don't forget that you are white."

Arthur Dexter Bradley said, "I'm really not sure."
Cops said, "A poor boy like you could use a break
We got you for the motel job and we're talkin' to your friend Bello
Now you don't wanta have to go back to jail, be a nice fellow.
You'll be doin' society a favor.
That sonofabitch is brave and gettin' braver.
We want to put his ass in stir
We want to pin this triple murder on him
He ain't no Gentleman Jim."

Rubin could take a man out with just one punch
But he never did like to talk about it all that much.
It's my work, he'd say, and I do it for pay
And when it's over I'd just as soon go on my way
Up to some paradise
Where the trout streams flow and the air is nice
And ride a horse along a trail.
But then they took him to the jailhouse
Where they try to turn a man into a mouse.

All of Rubin's cards were marked in advance
The trial was a pig-circus, he never had a chance.
The judge made Rubin's witnesses drunkards from the slums
To the white folks who watched he was a revolutionary bum
And to the black folks he was just a crazy nigger.
No one doubted that he pulled the trigger.
And though they could not produce the gun,
The D.A. said he was the one who did the deed
And the all-white jury agreed.

Rubin Carter was falsely tried.
The crime was murder "one," guess who testified?
Bello and Bradley and they both baldly lied
And the newspapers, they all went along for the ride.
How can the life of such a man
Be in the palm of some fool's hand?
To see him obviously framed
Couldn't help but make me feel ashamed to live in a land

Where justice is a game.

Now all the criminals in their coats and their ties
Are free to drink martinis and watch the sun rise
While Rubin sits like Buddha in a ten-foot cell
An innocent man in a living hell.
That's the story of the Hurricane,
But it won't be over till they clear his name
And give him back the time he's done.
Put in a prison cell, but one time he could-a been
The champion of the world.

Crisis

"No pretendamos que las cosas cambien si siempre hacemos lo mismo.
La crisis es la mejor bendición que puede alcanzar a personas y países porque la crisis trae progresos.
La creatividad nace de la angustia como el día nace de la noche oscura.
Es en la crisis que nace la inventiva, los descubrimientos y las grandes estrategias.
Quien supera la crisis se supera a sí mismo sin quedar 'superado'.
Quien atribuye a la crisis sus fracasos y penurias violenta su propio talento y respeta más a los problemas que a las soluciones.
La verdadera crisis es la crisis de la incompetencia.
El inconveniente de las personas y los países es la pereza para encontrar las salidas y soluciones.
Sin crisis no hay desafíos, sin desafíos la vida es una rutina, una lenta agonía.
Sin crisis no hay méritos.
Es en la crisis donde aflora lo mejor de cada uno, porque sin crisis todo viento es caricia. Hablar de crisis es promoverla, y callar en la crisis es exaltar el conformismo.
En vez de esto trabajemos duro.
Acabemos de una vez con la única crisis amenazadora que es la tragedia de no querer luchar por superarla."

ALBERT EINSTEIN

(thx sr.Big)

Miedo

"Sin lugar a dudas". Sus ojos se estrecharon ligeramente - no de forma sospechosa, pero de una manera extraña con preocupación. Estiró su mano a través de la mesa otra vez, despacio y deliberadamente. Retiré mis manos una pulgada de distancia de ella, pero no hizo caso de ésto, determinada a tocarme. Sostuve mi aliento - no debido a su olor ahora, pero debido a la tensión repentina, aplastante. Miedo. Mi piel la repugnaría. Ella se escaparía. Entonces cepilló la yema de sus dedos ligeramente a través del dorso de mi mano. El calor de su toque apacible, dispuesto, no se pareció a nada que alguna vez haya sentido. Esto habría sido el placer casi puro, excepto por mi miedo. Miré su cara como ella sintió la piedra fría de mi piel, todavía incapaz de respirar. Una sonrisa levantó las esquinas de sus labios.

De grande

Si ya no se te mueven las ramas
después de haber pasado un ventarrón.
Y si no se te ocurre ni patearla,
a esa piedra que en tu calle se cruzó.

Si ya se te fueron las ganas
de darle batalla al dragón.
Si buscas y no encuentras ni en tu casa
tu mundo, tu guarida, tu rincón,...

Si no sueñas ya que vienen del espacio
a darte los poderes para andar,
sin tener que cumplir ningún horario.
Si se pasó de moda tu verdad.

Si miras y no ves por las ventanas,
razones para salir a jugar.
Si juegas un presente sin mañana,
si no bailas por temor al qué dirán.

No te olvides del niño que fuiste,
no le creas al gigantes que sós.
Y recuerda que un día dijiste:
"De grande no quisiera ser mayor!!"

Si no esperas locura el 6 de enero,
y dejas solo al bueno de Melchor.
Si ya no cubres de barro tus dedos
y atrasas medio siglo tu reloj.

Y si ya no te asustan los payasos,
si dan Popeye y cambias de canal.
Si perdiste la sonrisa con los años
y si te privaste de llorar.

...

Si me encuentras un día colgado
de un globo rojo y volando hacia el sur
no pienses que estoy exagerando
sigue vivo el niño en mi canción.

Recordando la adolescencia

Después de un fin de semana tranquilito. De un sábado noche en casa, entre chats, libros y pelis, me reencontré con la adolescencia.
Y qué queda de ella? Para mi, hoy en día, mucho, todo! Me quedas tú, lo más valioso que he logrado en mis 27 años de vida, y que he conseguido conservar, que es todavía más difícil!

Dejo esta nota musical que me recuerda tantísimo a aquellos días de piscina y feria en Chevar con Miss Dados.

El calor de tu amor
me da sed y donde bebo yo
es donde quiero beber
y saciar allí mi sed.

El color de tus ojos
se adivina entre tu pelo y yo
los deseo más que ayer
y que la primera vez.

No preciso viajar lejos
para hallar lo que deseo
si tropiezo en tu regazo
ya me basta para tocar el cielo.

El sabor de tus labios
ese selecto capricho que
solo yo pruebo probar
y a chincharse los demás.

El candor de tu abrazo
puro, fiel, eterno, alagador
es mi fe y mi religión
garantía del amor.

No preciso viajar lejos
para hallar lo que deseo
si tropiezo en tu regazo
ya me basta para tocar el cielo...