Foto: Michael Strasser
La brutta città
There is this moment which gives us cause for looking back once again, for taking a good look at the things that happened. So many of them were in the desired harmony’s way. But there are means and ways to disregard all disharmonies. When you look into the faces of the people who did by now, at the last minute, become loved ones, one last smile truly isn’t that difficult anymore. Later, there will be quarrels concerning on whom the last gaze fell as well as which were the last words and to whom they were addressed.
Even the slightest mistake would have overshadowed everything, but this flood of mistakes and this avalanche of crimes and injustices became part of the masonry and are indispensable as patina for the atmosphere we love so much. The drink is glowing in the evening sun, and the little bit of alcohol works wonders, loosens the tongue and brings the luck, which seemed to be hopelessly buried only hours ago, to light.
La brutta città, che è la mia
You had to board a train in order to, from a distance, not pigeonhole the uneven things that made life hard, but to tackle them thoroughly. Everything did work much easier because the view was clearer now. It was easier to comprehend and categorise yourself and your role. To further every deed, every commenced piece for which you have been responsible, seemed possible just like that. Under these circumstances, fundamental change is a logic and next step. Suspicion becomes sympathy. Suddenly, you could see your family and those who lived in the neighbouring houses in a different light. You know that harmony means a constant overcoming of despicable forces, and with that knowledge you become more and more fond of the place where you stand now, and more and more it gets to be your own.
text: Siggi Hofer
translation: Stefan Thyri