Bon Dia
La vella Montserrat, desperta el barri
a cops d'escombra tot cantant,
les primeres persianes, sobren feixugues badallant.
Rere el vidre entelat, el cafeter assegura que no era penal
i es desfà la conversa igual que el sucre del tallat.
Bon dia, ningú ho ha demanat però fa bon dia,
damunt els caps un sol ben insolent
il·lumina descarat tot l'espectacle de la gent.
Al bell mig de la plaça
la peixetera pren paciència amb la Consol
que remuga i regala
grans bafarades d'alcohol.
I al pedrís reposant
l'avi Josep no es deixa perdre cap detall
i amb esguard es pregunta
quants dies més té de regal.
Bon dia...
Nens xisclant, olor a pixum de gat,
veïnes que un cop has passat et critiquen.
Gent llençant la brossa d'amagat
i un retardat que amb ulls burletes et mira
i diu
Bon dia...
Good Morning
Old Montserrat, wakes up the neighborhood
sweeping while singing,
the first shutters, yawning figs are superfluous.
Behind the frosted glass, the barista assures it wasn't a penalty
and the conversation dissolves like sugar in the coffee.
Good morning, no one asked for it but it's a good morning,
above the heads a very insolent sun
boldly illuminates the whole spectacle of people.
In the middle of the square
the fishmonger patiently deals with Consol
who mumbles and gives away
big whiffs of alcohol.
And at the corner resting
Grandpa Josep doesn't miss any detail
and with a look wonders
how many more days he has as a gift.
Good morning...
Children screaming, the smell of cat pee,
neighbors who criticize you once you've passed by.
People throwing away trash in secret
and a delayed person who looks at you with blurry eyes
and says
Good morning...
Escrita por: Lluís Gavaldà