Khan Tengri 2014 (il Duca)

E' l'ultima sera che sono a Brescia, solo nel mio monolocale. Domani si lavora e poi si parte. Le preoccupazioni sono tante, a partire da quella per i bagagli. Non si può sbagliare su niente, è vietato. Bisogna pensare a tutto quello che serve, per vivere, sopravvivere e scalare quella montagna.

Già, quella montagna: 7000 metri sono tanti, il nome Khan Tengri a pronunciarlo da una strana sensazione, il Kazakistan è qualcosa di troppo lontano. Eppure tra 1 giorno si va.

Immersi nei mille pensieri è importante trovare (continuamente) le motivazioni per fare questa roba, a volte è difficilissimo. 

Ricevo un messaggio da Ale, il compagno di cordata di mille salite qui, sulle nostre amate Alpi. Lui è in vacanza con la morosa in Grecia, un po' lo si invidia. Poi inizio a pensarci: la Corda Molla, lo spigolo dell'Emet, la Nord del Gran Paradiso, le vie assurde su montagne sconosciute, il canale Foglia e via fino alla via del Dubbio, dove abbiamo rischiato la pellaccia.

Mi viene voglia di guardare le foto, le mie foto di montagna: ascolto la musica guardando quelle immagini; ecco, ora mi sento forte, sento la voglia di partire, anche per loro:

- per i miei genitori, che mi hanno dato la possibilità di camminare, nella vita e sulle montagne

- per Ciccio, che ora è un ottimo papà, ma sarà sempre IL mio compagno di cordata

- per Lucia, che prima o poi andrò a trovare ad Alagna

- per Maria, la mia cuginetta

- per le mie sorelle, che possano essere orgogliose

- per tutta la mia famiglia, che è il campo base più sicuro del mondo

- per Mario, per le sue cazzate e le risate insieme al rifugio

- per Prina, il cacciatore di 4000 a cui devo offrire una birra

- per Lallo, mitico compagno di cordata silenzioso

- per Foglia e il nostro alpinismo selvaggio

- per tutti i miei compagni di cordata, sulle montagne e nella vita

- per lo zio Giorgio e il mio primo ghiacciaio

- per il mese passato al Tonolini e gli amici trovati lì

- per le mie scalate solitarie, perché da solo non ho mai fallito un colpo

- per la bellissima val di Rhemes, i suoi torrenti, i suoi fiori

- per la mia bellissima S-cetela, che mi aspetta a casa

tornerò presto

http://mountain-explorers.blogspot.it/p/expedition-2014-khan-tengri-7010-m-il.html

I'll be your mirror (Velvet Underground)

foto: Mario Spinola, sulle creste himalayane della Grigna, marzo 2014

I'll be your mirror
Reflect what you are, in case you don't know
I'll be the wind, the rain and the sunset
The light on your door to show that you're home
When you think the night has seen your mind
That inside you're twisted and unkind
Let me stand to show that you are blind
Please put down your hands
'Cause I see you
I find it hard to believe you don't know
The beauty that you are
But if you don't let me be your eyes
A hand in your darkness, so you won't be afraid
When you think the night has seen your mind
That inside you're twisted and unkind
Let me stand to show that you are blind
Please put down your hands
'Cause I see you
I'll be your mirror

Ricordando il 2013

We are alive (Bruce Springsteen)

foto: Ilario Pacati, in cima al mare in tempesta, gennaio 2014

“There’s a cross up yonder up on Calvary Hill
there’s a slip of blood on a silver knife
there’s a graveyard kid down below
where at night the dead come to life
well, above the stars they crackle in fire
a dead man’s moon throws seven rings
we’d put our ears to the cold grave stones
this is the song they’d sing

We are alive
and though our bodies lie alone here in the dark
our spirits rise to carry the fire and light the spark
to stand shoulder to shoulder and heart to heart

A voice cried I was killed in Maryland in 1877
when the railroad workers made their stand
I was killed in 1963 one Sunday morning in Birmingham
well, I died last year crossing the southern desert
my children left behind in San Pablo
well, they’ve left our bodies here to rot
oh, please let them know

We are alive
and though we lie alone here in the dark
our souls will rise to carry the fire and light the spark
to fight shoulder to shoulder and heart to heart

Let your mind rest easy, sleep well my friend
it’s only our bodies that betray us in the end

I awoke last night in the dark and dreamy deep
from my head to my feet, my body’d gone stone cold
there were worms crawling all around me
my fingers scratching at an earth black and six foot low

Alone in the blackness of my grave
alone I’d been left to die
then I heard voices calling all around me
the earth rose above me, my eyes filled with sky

We are alive
and though our bodies lie alone here in the dark
our souls and spirits rise
to carry the fire and light the spark
to fight shoulder to shoulder and heart to heart
to stand shoulder to shoulder and heart to heart
we are alive”.

Where the streets have no name (U2)

foto: Andrea Prina, scendendo dalla spalla Isler, luglio 2013

I wanna run 
I want to hide
I wanna tear down the walls
That hold me inside
I wanna reach out
And touch the flame
Where the streets have no name

I want to feel
Sunlight on my face
I see the dust cloud disappear
Without a trace
I want to take shelter from the poison rain
Where the streets have no name

Where the streets have no name
Where the streets have no name
We're still building
Then burning down love
Burning down love
And when I go there
I go there with you
It's all I can do

The city's aflood
And our love turns to rust
We're beaten and blown by the wind
Trampled in dust
I'll show you a place
High on a desert plain
Where the streets have no name

Where the streets have no name
Where the streets have no name
We're still building
Then burning down love
Burning down love
And when I go there
I go there with you
It's all I can do

Our love turns to rust
We're beaten and blown by the wind
Blown by the wind
Oh, and I see our love
See our love turn to rust
Oh, we're beaten and blown by the wind
Blown by the wind
Oh, when I go there
I go there with you
It's all I can do

Ricordando il 2012

I Want You (Bob Dylan)

foto: Alessandro Foglia, sulle placche delle cime Cadenti, agosto 2013

The guilty undertaker sighs
The lonesome organ grinder cries
The silver saxophones say I should refuse you
The cracked bells and washed-out horns
Blow into my face with scorn
But it’s not that way
I wasn’t born to lose you

I want you, I want you
I want you so bad
Honey, I want you

The drunken politician leaps
Upon the street where mothers weep
And the saviors who are fast asleep, they wait for you
And I wait for them to interrupt
Me drinkin’ from my broken cup
And ask me to
Open up the gate for you

I want you, I want you
I want you so bad
Honey, I want you

How all my fathers, they’ve gone down
True love they’ve been without it
But all their daughters put me down
’Cause I don’t think about it

Well, I return to the Queen of Spades
And talk with my chambermaid
She knows that I’m not afraid to look at her
She is good to me
And there’s nothing she doesn’t see
She knows where I’d like to be
But it doesn’t matter

I want you, I want you
I want you so bad
Honey, I want you

Now your dancing child with his Chinese suit
He spoke to me, I took his flute
No, I wasn’t very cute to him, was I?
But I did it, though, because he lied
Because he took you for a ride
And because time was on his side
And because I . . .

I want you, I want you
I want you so bad
Honey, I want you

When the night comes falling (Bob Dylan)

foto: Alessandro Foglia, dopo la via nuova, novembre 2012

Look out across the fields, see me returning
Smoke is in your eye, you draw a smile
From the fireplace where my letters to you are burning
You’ve had time to think about it for a while

Well, I’ve walked two hundred miles, now look me over
It’s the end of the chase and the moon is high
It won’t matter who loves who
You’ll love me or I’ll love you
When the night comes falling from the sky

I can see through your walls and I know you’re hurting
Sorrow covers you up like a cape
Only yesterday I know that you’ve been flirting
With disaster that you managed to escape

I can’t provide for you no easy answers
Who are you that I should have to lie?
You’ll know all about it, love
It’ll fit you like a glove
When the night comes falling from the sky

I can hear your trembling heart beat like a river
You must have been protecting someone last time I called.
I’ve never asked you for nothing you couldn’t deliver
I’ve never asked you to set yourself up for a fall

I saw thousands who could have overcome the darkness
For the love of a lousy buck, I’ve watched them die
Stick around, baby, we’re not through
Don’t look for me, I’ll see you
When the night comes falling from the sky

In your teardrops, I can see my own reflection
It was on the northern border of Texas where I crossed the line
I don’t want to be a fool starving for affection
I don’t want to drown in someone else’s wine

For all eternity I think I will remember
That icy wind that’s howling in your eye
You will seek me and you’ll find me
In the wasteland of your mind
When the night comes falling from the sky

Well, I sent you my feelings in a letter
But you were gambling for support
This time tomorrow I’ll know you better
When my memory is not so short

This time I’m asking for freedom
Freedom from a world which you deny
And you’ll give it to me now
I’ll take it anyhow
When the night comes falling from the sky

Cleaning Windows (Van Morrison)

Oh, the smell of the bakery from across the street
Got in my nose
As we carried our ladders down the street
With the wrought-iron gate rows
I went home and listened to jimmie rodgers in my lunch-break
Bought five woodbines at the shop on the corner
And went straight back to work.

Oh, sam was up on top
And I was on the bottom with the v
We went for lemonade and paris buns
At the shop and broke for tea
I collected from the lady
And I cleaned the fanlight inside-out
I was blowing saxophone on the weekend
In that down joint.

What's my line?
Im happy cleaning windows
Take my time
Ill see you when my love grows
Baby don't let it slide
Im a working man in my prime
Cleaning windows (number a hundred and thirty-six)

I heard leadbelly and blind lemon
On the street where I was born
Sonny terry, brownie mcghee,
Muddy Waters singin Im a rolling stone
I went home and read my christmas humphreys book on zen
Curiosity killed the cat
Kerouacs dharma bums and on the road

What's my line?
Im happy cleaning windows
Take my time
Ill see you when my love grows
Baby don't let it slide
Im a working man in my prime
Cleaning windows...

Working on a Dream (Bruce Springsteen)

foto: Mario Spinola, il Duca impegnato sulle creste del Brenta, Luglio 2013

Out here the nights are long, the days are lonely 

I think of you and I'm working on a dream 

I'm working on a dream 

Now the cards I've drawn's a rough hand, darling 

I straighten my back and I'm working on a dream 

I'm working on a dream 

I'm working on a dream 

Though sometimes it feels so far away 

I'm working on a dream 

I know it will be mine someday 

Rain pourin' down, I swing my hammer 

My hands are rough from working on a dream 

From working on a dream 

I'm working on a dream 

Though trouble can feel like it's here to stay 

I'm working on a dream 

Our love will chase the trouble away 

I'm working on a dream 

Though it can feel so far away 

I'm working on a dream 

And our love will make it real someday 

The sunrise come, I climb the ladder 

The new day breaks and I'm working on a dream 

I'm working on a dream 

I'm working on a dream 

I'm working on a dream 

I'm working on a dream 

Though it can feel so far away 

I'm working on a dream 

And our love will make it real someday 

I'm working on a dream 

Though it can feel so far away 

I'm working on a dream 

And our love will make it real someday