Ricompensa

Pioppi sottili
dai corpi bianchi
malati di cielo
d’incanto intrecciati
con le proprie ombre.

Pomeriggio d’ottobre
senza traguardi
nasconde un sorriso
di dolce certezza:
chi osserva può scorgere
ovunque poesia.

(Dio ricompensa chi non s’arrende).

Freddo neonato

 

Il freddo neonato
infrange l’involucro
pellicola di sole
sulla pelle.

Di nuovo nudo
sento i ricordi
pungermi gli occhi:
emorragia.

(le serpi arrotolate
alle mie caviglie stanche
mi conducono altrove
verso baie inesplorate
di fronte a un’alba
sempre più tardiva)

Al di là delle nuvole

 










Sull’asfalto bagnato di cielo
la vita scivola di futilità
come la luce dei lampioni
sulla neve industriale.

Ma al di là delle nuvole
i fossi ancora profumano
di menta selvatica
e dell’odore arcigno
della pianta del mais
ormai spoglia
del suo frutto.

Il tempo del rock è finito

 









Il tempo del rock è finito
la musica striscia tra le crepe
afflitte del camposanto
sulle strade stravolte
dell’Emilia attonita
non ci sono più fulmini buoni *.

Rimangono le briciole
sotto i raggi sporadici
della luna disattenta
a ricordarmi del vissuto
e di tutto ciò che la paura
mi ha impedito di vivere.

* Pier Vittorio Tondelli, Altri Libertini, Feltrinelli, 1980
** Nella foto, Piazza Fontanesi, Reggio Emilia (foto dal blog: http://reggioemiliadailyphoto.blogspot.it/)

Last crescent of me

It’s not the proper place
It’s not the time
To lead myself astray
Far from the life
I have to find the power
It’s hidden in these showers

And I see around me
The other people
They’re all alternatives
To pass the life through
So many different features
In which to find the reason
To live

And everyone seems better than myself
May be a lie but it is what I felt
Since when I am become a man

I’m wining and I’m waxing as the moon
That is also going to be full *
But now I am the last crescent
Of me

And many people seem
To have the answer
To put the doubts and fears
Into the fire
Am I the only one
Who has no more ideas
To resist?

And everyone seems better than myself
May be a lie but it is what I felt
Since when I am become a man

I’m wining and I’m waxing as the moon
That is also going to be full
But now I am the last crescent
Of me

Pietrasanta (LU) – 29 settembre 2012
* La luna piena di stanotte nella tradizione druidica è detta “La luna della collina dei bardi”.

While Cardiff sleeps

 

The Welsh rain
Is knocking at the window
While the wind
Whispers to my pillow
And I have my hands so empty
As I am still only twenty

I’ve got flames
But they sink in the water
And my face
So pale on the glasses
While I see some roses sons of autumn
And my prayer is to change sad emotions

In this land of heroes and of dragon
I am now I admit
I am so far from wisdom
That I would
I can give my life for truth

Everyday seems clearer than the day
Before
That I was born for another way
To go
But I’ve not still understood

While Cardiff sleeps
I’m behind the curtains
I can’t be
This way still for a long time
I’m singing with low voice so desperately
But whining never made a man so happy

And I think
Of my first time in Wales
I was me
But also different
Over me was the sky with all the clouds
While now I’ve got a ceiling of dark doubts

In this land of heroes and of dragon
I am now
I admit I am so far from wisdom
That I would
I can give my life for truth

Everyday seems clearer than the day
Before
That I was born for another way
To go
But I’ve not still understood

26th September 2012 – Cardiff (UK)
Nella foto "Queen's Street" a Cardiff

Muileann-uisge *

Il vento scende dalla luna in falce
l’estate è solo un gomitolo
pronto per tessere l’autunno
in questa notte di acque nuove
e confessioni bianche di cielo.

* “Mulino ad acqua” in gaelico