Youth

There’s not an exact end to youth
The age you can avoid the proofs
As they are not a matter now

And everything seems a great truth
No never mind where going to
But why don’t dance all night around?

Yes I can see my image is
Different but I’m always me
As I was called a “something teen”

So may be it’s enough a song
I haven’t listened to for long
And I swim again in that gold

I’d like to think that
When I’ll look behind
There will be purity
Before everything

And I will understand every slip
As it was necessary
Just to make me feel more right

Every drop of love’s a sign
I am not astray this time
Even if I’m growing old

Now every morning is a chance
And there is nothing to pretend
Even if they’re calling me man

Sometimes I answer sometimes not
I’ve not realized I have to stop
To make me feel as I’m not grown

I’d like to think that
When I’ll look behind
There will be purity
Before everything

And I will understand every slip
As it was necessary
Just to make me feel more right

Every drop of love’s a sign
I am not astray this time
Even if I’m growing old

Neh *

Sete
di pace consolante
di disgelo estivo
di raccogliere frutti
d’affondare radici
nella terra morbida
coltivata dagl’anni.

E non
di spezzare le zolle
con unghie sanguinanti
di sentire il peso
del cielo congelato
di lottare tenace
stelo contro la falce.

La mia nave infranta
sugli scogli grafite
della quotidianità:
il respiro flebile
lentamente arretra
nel silenzio saturo.

(Ma io lo so:
arriverà un vento
forte di porte infrante
e di schegge velenose
che trafiggerà i corpi
putridi dei pagliacci!)

* “aver sete” in ebraico

Tulips so red

Me with the strength in my hands
Driving along the iced Land
Just to see you again
Lying over a foreign bed

I know you’re passing the hell
Year after year without rest
I bring some tulips so red
Your ninetieth to celebrate

And just today
I have realized
Your birthday it is
The day when she died

It is so strange
A bit terrifying
But the death and life
Are always so tied

Show me you can still smile
Even if your life seems a lie
And I swear I will smile with you
Even if today it’s so difficult

And just today
I have realized
Your birthday it is
The day when she died

It is so strange
A bit terrifying
But the death and life
Are always so tied

8th February 2012

Sangue bianco

Continua a fluire
il sangue bianco del cielo
dalle vene strappate
della luna traboccante.

Sento le maree *
sussurrarmi sonnolente
l’avvento del prossimo
fertile risveglio.

Ma io sono arido
come fossa nella terra
e come un pianeta
senza più nessuna stella.

Questa notte.
Da due anni.
Non ci sei più.

* Nella tradizione esoterica celtica, la luna piena che sorge tra il 21 gennaio e il 17 febbraio – quella che c’è stanotte – è detta “Luna delle maree”.

Healing is the best rite

From the new moon I will start to rise
And this is a promise
From the new moon I will stop to cry
And this is a promise

Cause I have again to fight
Cause I have again to lie
Saying that I am full of strength

After this loom I will have to try
To heal myself
From the sick part I have inside
And that makes me sad

There is nothing of better I
Can do that heal in this night
In this snow healing is the best rite

I keep the distance from the marshes
Of the fright and of the fear
I change the instance of the silence
And I sing my way to be

While all around the snow the world is covering
And I’m alone with all my doubts

So a second quarter is here now
And I feel I’m allowed
To celebrate in this place on the ground
I fix my new bound

And in the prayer I can shine
Purified as a new born child
So the illness can slide far from me

I keep the distance from the marshes
Of the fright and of the fear
I change the instance of the silence
And I sing my way to be

While all around the snow the world is covering
And I’m alone with all my doubts

Imbolc – 2012

Offerta

La nebbia è un rituale
Acqua Santa in questo inverno arido
abbraccio ai campi neri
all’insaputa della Luna.

Dio non sa più piangere
su questa terra stentata
di gradini sgretolati
e mani deboli.

Serve una nuova offerta
di intenti forti
e occhi sbarrati
per rendere percettibile
l’armonia nascosta
della vita.

Luce incisa

L’acqua apre e chiude
la percezione del nulla
l’assenza di materia
(l’alito di Dio?)

Ascolto il silenzio acuto
che graffia il sole
e sbriciola i miei occhi.

Nelle rocce ho letto
la preghiera più semplice
che incide la luce
per plasmare il buio.

(Nella foto: interno della Chiesa di Sant’Egidio di Fontanella – Bergamo – 13 gennaio 2012)