ILARIA CROCIANI
Songs. Stories. Lyrics.
MARY LOU
(Lyrics: Ilaria Crociani – Music: Mirko Guerrini)
Dedicated to Shirley Howard and her nine bobs pony Mary Lou.
A true story from the Great Depression Era in Australia
Riding her pony named Mary Lou, Shirley Howard leaves the safety of her parent's home in Sydney to embark on a solitary journey around Australia in search for work during the depression era. She travels even in the dark thanks to a headlamp mounted on her pony. Along the road, between Cairns and Adelaide, she accepts any job she is offered or sells her handcrafted soaps to sustain herself during the journey. Whenever she cannot find accommodation for the night, she is not scared to sleep in cemeteries, where she feels safer from the risk of swagmen's aggression. She dreams one day to write a book about her travels. Unfortunately, it is not known if she ever did it.
Shirley's fascinating over-landing up and down Australia's East coast is sparsely documented in the newspapers of the time. Nevertheless, they portray a story of determination, resourcefulness and adventure. Surely a story of solitude, but most importantly, a story of absolute fulfilling freedom.
The song, entitled“Mary Lou” as an homage paid to Shirley's beloved travel companion, is also about the relationship between people and their pets. As she was traveling alone for months, I imagined Shirley's affection for Mary Lou growing more profound every day. The song lets us glimpse the incessant conversation we can easily imagine going on between the two adventurers, and let us perceive the same warmth and comfort Shirley received from sharing all her thoughts and feelings with Mary Lou.
The song's lyrics breathe of the images and sentiment that the unique and astonishing Australian landscape has inspired me during my travels.
(ITALIANO)
Dedicata a Shirley Howard, Australia, anni '30.
In sella al suo pony di nome Mary Lou, Shirley Howard lascia la sicurezza della casa dei genitori a Sydney per intraprendere un viaggio solitario in Australia alla ricerca di un lavoro
durante l'epoca della depressione. Viaggia anche al buio grazie a una lampada frontale montata sul suo pony. Lungo la strada, tra Cairns e Adelaide, accetta qualsiasi lavoro le venga offerto o vende i suoi saponi artigianali per mantenersi durante il viaggio. Quando non riesce a trovare una sistemazione per la notte, non ha paura di dormire nei cimiteri, dove si sente più al sicuro dal rischio di aggressioni da parte dei viandanti. Sogna un giorno di scrivere un libro sui suoi viaggi. Purtroppo non risulta lo abbia mai fatto.
L'affascinante girovagare di Shirley su e giù per la costa orientale dell'Australia è sparsamente documentato nei giornali dell'epoca. Tuttavia, essi descrivono una storia di determinazione, intraprendenza e avventura. Sicuramente una storia di solitudine, ma soprattutto una storia di assoluta e appagante libertà.
La canzone, intitolata "Mary Lou", in omaggio all'amata compagna di viaggio di Shirley, parla anche del rapporto tra le persone e i loro animali domestici. Mentre viaggiava da sola per mesi, ho immaginato che l'affetto di Shirley per Mary Lou diventasse ogni giorno più profondo. La canzone ci lascia intravedere l'incessante conversazione che possiamo facilmente immaginare tra le due avventuriere e ci fa percepire lo stesso calore e conforto che Shirley riceveva dal condividere tutti i suoi pensieri e sentimenti con Mary Lou.
Il testo della canzone traspira le immagini e i sentimenti che il paesaggio australiano, unico e sorprendente, mi ha ispirato durante i miei viaggi.
“MARY LOU”
To Shirley Howard.
(Lyrics: Ilaria Crociani – Music: Mirko Guerrini)
Games of warm light from above dappling the morning leaves.
A tiny spider walks on my hammock silently.
Kaleidoscopic landscapes await us, Mary Lou.
How funny! On your whiskers, dangle pearls of dew.
En marche! soon! Who cares, really, if we are back to square one.
Nothing can really stop us, neither the scorching sun!
The journey is what matters
never mind the final landing
It is just dreams that flatter.
Success is disenchanting.
Games of scented herbs curl my diary.
A jobless authoress, my pages still empty.
Will you smell new flowers for me, my sweetest Mary Lou?
I need them for my soaps: it’s not something you can chew!
Distant aromas distilled in camel milk and oils from the gumtrees.
A dream of baroque sunsets will make me a few pennies.
****
A game of chance. Isn’t this what life is all about?
I just needed a job. Most looked at me with doubt.
Are you tired of overlanding with me, my Mary Lou?
Your headlamp is fading, and you need new horseshoes.
If only I could explain the infinity that blurs within me.
We never had to take any of this too seriously...
The journey is what matters
never mind the final landing
It is just dreams that flatter.
Success is disenchanting.