Langue   

Kissed by Mist

Trey Anastasio
Langue: anglais


Trey Anastasio

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Beautiful Butterfly
(Still on the Hill)
Butterfly
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Julia Butterfly Hill
(Casey Desmond)


1999

Julia Butterfly Hill
Julia Butterfly Hill



Dedicata a Julia "Butterfly" Hill

Julia Hill, meglio conosciuta come Julia Butterfly Hill (Mount Vernon, 18 febbraio 1974), è un'ambientalista statunitense.

È diventata nota perché è rimasta per 738 giorni nella foresta di Headwaters, Contea di Grand (Colorado), dal dicembre del 1997 al dicembre del 1999, su di una sequoia a circa 55 metri[1] di altezza per impedirne l'abbattimento da parte della Pacific Lumber Company. Ha raccontato la sua permanenza sull'albero nel libro The legacy of Luna (Luna è il nome dato alla sequoia), tradotto in italiano con il titolo La ragazza sull'albero.


Altre canzoni dedicate a Julia Hill:
Kissed by Mist - Julia Hill - Beautiful Butterfly - Butterfly - Julia Butterfly Hill


Perché salvare le foreste vuol dire salvare l'uomo
The forest seemed to swallow us
Your hand was holding tight
We walked together several miles
And fading was the light
So softly then I heard a voice
You seemed to hear it too
Then walked on resolutely like
It wasn't meant for you

But when it came again I stopped
The voice among the trees
Came flowing sweetly louder now
In tones designed to please
Again you pulled upon my arm,
"You have to listen now"
And as you spoke, a chill went through me,
Freezing me somehow

"The woodland folk and forest creatures living in this glade,
Have asked me to bring people here for this I am well payed
The silent song will capture you, enrapture you and then,
You'll grow roots and bark and leaves, and I'll bring back more men"

"But why", I asked, not quite aware of what was going on,
I saw your movements move urgently, but words were drowned in song
"You are different though", she said, "you have something to say,
It was a big mistake to take you here, let's run away."

I tried to run, but couldn't, my head was bathed in sound,
And I looked down and saw my legs two feet beneath the ground.
My toes were roots, my fingers twigs, my skin was scaley bark
And as into an oak I changed, I watched you in the dark
Completing your transaction with the nebulous green crowd,
Of tiny dancing forest people, singing very loud.

A celebration for a tree, and then I understood,
My initial feelings in this melancholy wood
I know I felt the change in you, when we finally kissed,
I looked but you were surrounded by, a tapestry of mist

I picture you, as wind blows through our leaves and over land,
Every tree that stands with me for money changing hands.

envoyé par DoNQuijote82 - 15/3/2013 - 11:37




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