Sadly, he passed away during the night of the 29th/30th of September. Curiously enough, it was his Saint's Day, Saint Michael. He was well over eighty.
Miquel Vives was my children's maternal grandfather, my father-in-law. I hadn't seen him in over 25 years, but I retain fond memories of us walking in the mountains of Vandellos, in Spain, or collecting olives on his land in those same mountains, and of our after-dinner conversations over a good glass of brandy and a strong "Faria", the Spanish cigar from Galicia. I remember, especially, that night during the winter of '70/'71 when, driving up the mountain in a heavy snowstorm, his car got stuck. My two baby kids were in that car with their mother! Jaume, her brother, had to walk in the freezing cold and thick snow to the next village for help.
Miquel was an educated man with a vast and varied experience in a dozen different fields, ranging fron the Spanish Civil War, in which he participated, to running businesses, driving taxis, building and modernising houses and working the land.
We quarelled back in '82 and never saw each other again, mainly because of his poor health, and also to avoid causing each other unnecessary stress. We did, however, respect each other. I am sure he will be sadly missed.
His favourite song was "j'attendrai" by Dino Oliveri and Louis Poterat/N.Rastelli. It's a French wartime song, based on an Italian song, that tells of waiting for one's loved one's return. Here it is, sung by Tino Rossi, courtesy of Youtube.com and maldoror26, thank you both.
The song is, of course, quite old and so is the arrangement. Perhaps a more modern, and possibly more popular, version was Dalida's (1975), but this one, Tino Rossi's, retains a certain melancholic flavour which, I think, is particularly suitable for the occasion.
J'attendrai,
le jour et la nuit, j'attendrai toujours
ton retour.
J'attendrai,
car l'oiseau qui s'enfuit vient chercher l'oubli
dans son nid.
Le temps passe et court
en battant tristement dans mon coeur si lourd.
Et pourtant, j'attendrai ton retour.
Les fleurs palissent, le feu s'éteint,
l'ombre se glisse dans le jardin.
L'horloge tisse des sons tres lent,
je crois entendre ton pas.
Le vent m'apporte des bruits lointains
que dans ma porte j'écoute en vain.
Hélas, plus rien,
plus rien ne vient.
J'attendrai...(etc.)
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
.jpg)
No comments:
Post a Comment