giovedì 23 marzo 2017

Sulla cima del mio monte


Sulla cima del mio monte
sento la terra muoversi
e il sole accarezzare
le mie palpebre sterili.

Sulla cima del mio monte
lascio che il vento desti
dal sogno impossibile
di non invecchiare mai.

Sulla cima del mio monte
vedo case in attesa
che l’inverno strisciante
ritorni verso il nord.

(e l’ultima mela è sacra:
ne assaporo incantato il nettare
profezia rassicurante dei nuovi fiori)

giovedì 16 marzo 2017

That is called life because there weren’t other names

It’s when I have nothing to say
And there is no new god to pray
It’s in those moments that I can find myself
Or at least what remains of myself

When you are in the middle of a desert 
That is called life because there weren’t other names 
You can have sun or you can live under the rain 
You can look around or you can decide to be afraid 

And all your choices can seem yours 
Or they can come from.. from the otherworld 

Behind the curtains I can find
My real face without the lies
That I invent to live my everyday life
To fight the war against the absence of a light

When you are in the middle of a desert 
That is called life because there weren’t other names 
You can have sun or you can live under the rain 
You can look around or you can decide to be afraid 

And all your choices can seem yours 
Or they can come from.. from the otherworld

venerdì 3 marzo 2017

Puszta *

Così piccolo e così immenso
il mio mondo in questa notte
il vento soffia dal nord della puszta
e fa da secoli lo stesso verso.
Qui l’occidente si fa sentinella
nell’ascolto dei sussurri dell’est
per conoscere il tempo esatto
dell’agognata apocalisse.

2 marzo 2017, Pècs, Ungheria 

* Il termine puszta significa "terreno nudo" è un termine ungherese utilizzato per indicare vaste distese di pianura stepposa, tipiche del bassopiano magiaro. 

Nell’immagine “The Puszta at Night” by György Soponyai

lunedì 27 febbraio 2017

Like an ember


Sun it is shining it is like an ember
After all this darkness, we’re leaving behind
I need to know if I have to surrender
Or if I have still a chance in this life

Someone says that I’m walking away 
Leaving behind the faith without awareness 
But I know there is nothing so wrong 
That can delete my hope of becoming better 

And if the spring is already arrived
I want to welcome it at my best
I burn the masks that are covering my face
And let the true light to penetrate my eye

Someone says that I’m walking away 
Leaving behind the faith without awareness 
But I know there is nothing so wrong 
That can delete my hope of becoming better

martedì 14 febbraio 2017

La semantica della ghigliottina











La semantica della ghigliottina
sento boia evocare scheletri
appuntiti vili e immortali
con vocaboli che scarnificano.

 Che sia questa la santa primavera
per compiere il giusto esorcismo?
Di nuovo sulla pira infuocata
attendo il pianto dei carnefici.

(nella foto Pyotr Pavlensky)

domenica 5 febbraio 2017

The rain on the wood

I don’t know if I am still able to write
I don’t know if I am still able to sing
Yesterday evening you said to me
Disillusionment stole your inspiration
And I have cried arrived at home
Thinking a part of us was dead

But when I hear this noise 
If I could call this noise 
That is the rain on the wood 
When the heart seems dead and you 

You can take your love 
If you have some love 
And melt it in the wood 
Until you reach the roots 

So I wonder if I can face my whole life
Without that shelter I had inside my pages
I’ve to invent during this time
A new formula to live
In this darkness inside this wind
That blows strongly on the fields

But when I hear this noise 
If I could call this noise 
That is the rain on the wood 
When the heart seems dead and you 

You can take your love 
If you have some love 
And melt it in the wood 
Until you reach the roots

sabato 4 febbraio 2017

Solo il bosco


Inietto silenzio nelle vene
solo il bosco sa comprendere
il mio intimo bisogno
di annullarmi.

Intorno al bosco sacro
le cime delle montagne
sono isole in attesa
di dissolversi.