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Wednesday 12 May 2021

Restless heart I met Mughal

I met Mughal

Author of the content

I met Mughal. A chat before his show at the Catanzaro Autumn Festival. Two very meaningful chats because I asked him, and he told me, the story of the message that Lucio Battisti sent him from beyond. An unequivocal message received from many sides. I was struck by the commitment with which he wanted to convey this experience of the supernatural which, coincidentally, merged into a song, sung by Celentano and set to music by Gianni Bella with words (beautiful) by Mogol himself.

Beyond this touching testimony I was struck by the candor of a true poet who showed during the show. The lyrics of Battisti's songs come from Mogol's life and experiences. One of these was preceded by a statement that moved me. Roughly Mughal said: I feel that I cannot do all the good that I would like to do, unlike my wife who manages to do incredible things; so I dedicated a song to an elderly woman who prays alone in a church, to a prostitute who comes home and puts the money she brought home on the bedside table, to a mother girl who takes care of her child alone . Then a song appears whose text is suggestive but which, with this explanation, becomes moving: “For you too”Is the title.

mogul
I met Mughal. A chat before his show at the Catanzaro Autumn Festival.

Lyrics of "Also for you" by Mogol - Battisti

For you that it is still night and you are already preparing your coffee
That you get dressed without looking at the mirror behind you anymore
Then enter the church and pray slowly
And meanwhile, you think of the world, now, for you so far

For you who come back to your house in the morning because
On the street, no one is cold anymore and looks more than you

For you who put money next to him who sleeps
And add some more love to those who don't know what to do with it

Also for you I would like to die and I don't know
Also for you I would give something that I don't have

And so, and so, and so
I stay here
To give you my thoughts
To give you what yesterday
I would have entrusted to the wind, trying to reach who in the wind would have said yes

For you who wake up your baby in the morning and then
Dress him up and accompany him to school and go to your work

For you that a mistake cost you a lot
That you tremble in looking at a man and live in regret

Also for you I would like to die and I die I don't know Also for you I would give something I don't have

And so, and so, and so
I stay here
To give you my thoughts
To give you what yesterday
I would have entrusted to the wind trying to reach who the wind would have said yes

I met Mughal

Knowing Mughal confirmed to me that the true poet has the style of the eternal child, the look and simplicity of the child. It is not irreverent to say this; Jesus said that the kingdom of heaven belongs to those who make themselves like a child. It seemed clear to me that the poet and the saint are alike. There are various types of poets. There is the poet vate, the thinker poet ... but the greatest poets are complete, they bring together the various aspects and know how to express themselves from the heart. Even the saints express themselves with the heart, which is full of the Holy Spirit. The saints are never boring, they do not keep their faith in the freezer of academic culture. Just think of San Francesco. Can there be a more moving and suggestive text than the canticle of creatures? Pure poetry.

«Altissimu, almighty, good Lord, your I am laude, the glory is honore et onne benedictione.

To you alone, Altissimu, se konfàno et nullu homo ène dignu te mentare.

Praised be you, my Lord, cum all your creatures, especially Messor lo friar sole, who is Iorno, and alumini us for him. Et ellu is beautiful and radiant with great splendor, of you, Most High, carries signification.

Praised be you, my Lord, through Sister Moon and the stars, in celu you formed clarite et pretiose et belle.

Praised be you, my Lord, through brother wind and air and cloudless and serene and all time, for which you give sustenance to your creatures.

Praised be you, my Lord, through sor'aqua, which is very useful and humble and priestly and chaste.

Praised be you, my Lord, through brother focu, for whom you ennallumini the nocte, and he is beautiful and iocundo and robust and strong.

Praised be you, my Lord, through our sister mother earth, which sustains and governs it, and produces various fruits with colorful flowers and herbs.

Praised yes, my Lord, for those ke forgive for your love, et sustain infirmitate et tribulatione.

Blessed are those who support him in peace, from you, Most High, are crowned.

Praised be 'my' Lord through our sister bodily death, from which no living man can escape: woe to those who die in mortal sins;

blessed are those who will find in your most holy voluntati, ka morte secunda no 'will hurt him.

Praise and bless my 'Lord' and thank and serve them with great humilitate "

It is not irreverent to approach the two poets: one lying on the painful humanity, the other illuminated by grace even in the face of the most terrible events such as death, the sister death. The rope of love and compassion vibrates in both.






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