Linfa sangue

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Forse è il tempo

ad attendere le querce

dai rami abulici. 

 

La stagione stagna

se la linfa sangue

resta ctonia. 

 

In silenzio vedo 

le vite degli altri

vendersi a ore.

A new tradition

 

 LISTEN TO - ASCOLTA 

 

 

 

 

 

Let me become the Imbolc light 

into the dark of winter tide 

I can pray here on my knees in front of the candle 

I can say in days like these it’s like a cradle 

 

I want to start a new tradition 

Here in this place that is my mission 

I’ll light a candle over the wood of windowsill 

eight windows one for every feast of the Wheel 

 

I celebrate today, for a reason 

to esc from my everyday prison 

I reckon that I need somewhere to land 

 

Imbolc is something like a miracle 

we’re out of the winter and in the middle 

It’s an ambience that bestows a rest 

 

This is the only feast I have 

never forgotten to be aware 

Also into the worst storms I lit a candle 

To say to my sympathetic God I need a rescue 

 

I celebrate today, for a reason

to esc from my everyday prison 

I reckon that I need somewhere to land 

 

Imbolc is something like a miracle 

we’re out of the winter and in the middle 

It’s an ambience that bestows a rest 

 

Imbolc 2022

Through a keyhole

 

LISTEN TO - ASCOLTA

Look at the new year 

through a keyhole 

while the wind 

is shuttering the world 

What do I expect 

is to find somewhere 

the right songline 

to follow to die 

so that I can be reborn again 

leaving behind this somber land 

I don’t sing about tomorrow 

cause the future is my fear 

maybe it will be some sorrow 

by now I close my eyelids 

So that I say I can’t see straight 

with my eyes closed 

what can make me afraid 

Is this the only real way 

to have some hope into 

this mess not to stay 

I am arrived 

to a no return point 

where it can’t be 

enough a simple choice 

to come back where 

there is still my voice 

and I can stop 

to hum behind the noise 

My praise goes to the one out there 

that can give me a truthful hand 

I don’t sing about tomorrow 

cause the future is my fear 

maybe it will be some sorrow 

by now I close my eyelids 

So that I say I can’t see straight 

with my eyes closed 

what can make me afraid 

Is this the only real way 

to have some hope 

into this mess not to stay

Wyrd *

 

Dalla finestra a sud

la ragnatela del tempo *

cullata dal vento

di un ovest sconsolato

dal muro agli alberi

dal mio corpo al cielo

in attesa che si compia

dell'inverno il destino. 

* il riferimento è all'antico concetto anglosassone di "Wyrd", la rete che collega ogni elemento ed ogni creatura dell'universo, e non conosce distinzioni tra passato e futuro.

Fuoco immenso

 

Che fuoco immenso

il sole

falò intergalattico

di rubino e agata

di anime radiose 

come fascine eterne

di sapienza avvampate * 

Disteso su rovine

di terrena esistenza 

ascolto il calore

che sussurra eternità.  

* Secondo la Divina commedia, nel Cantico del Paradiso, nel Quarto Cielo (quello del Sole), ci sono gli spiriti sapienti

It’s Christmas time so cruel sometimes

 

 LISTEN TO - ASCOLTA 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The snow is melting 

 the lights are coloured 

and I can see the emptiness 

conquering my heart 

 

I feel so lazy 

I do want nothing 

and I have nothing to say 

to anyone out there 

 

It’s Christmas time so cruel sometimes 

 

This time full of glory 

is always a promise 

to feel a bit better 

to make some good choices 

 

I don’t want to waste 

also these sacred days 

it’s a simple prayer 

that I say to myself 

 

The night is silent 

the moon still so big 

and I have never felt 

so little before 

 

I feel so lonely 

as in my youth 

what can I do to 

catch somewhere some truth? 

 

It’s Christmas time so cruel sometimes

 

This time full of glory 

is always a promise 

to feel a bit better 

to make some good choices 

 

I don’t want to waste 

also these sacred days 

it’s a simple prayer 

that I say to myself

A promise to be sowed

 

LISTEN TO - ASCOLTA 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Looking for the mistletoe 

along this so windy road 

that I have always known 

to the south west I go 

 

‘cause it’s the last direction 

to have got the evening gold 

before a light newborn 

a promise to be sowed 

 

so even if we are in the deep darkness 

to say there’s a new light is not a joke 

and from today it can arise 

 each day much more, we’ll be surprised 

 

so even if I wait for the new winter 

and it will be a long frozen one 

yes from today I have to arise 

I swear in front of this dazzling sky 

 

Sky is full of mistletoe 

the one that can give the oak 

of this bright flash yellow 

far from the gray autumn 

 

I can feel so grateful 

for this gift so precious 

nobody else can hold 

this golden bough, at all 

 

so even if we are in the deep darkness 

to say there’s a new light is not a joke 

and from today it can arise 

each day much more, we’ll be surprised 

 

so even if I wait for the new winter 

and it will be a long frozen one 

yes from today I have to arise 

I swear in front of this dazzling sky 

 

Christmas / Alban Arthan 2021