Airmed’s mantle

 

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It’s twenty years 

that I come here 

the hidden sea 

behind the hills 

 

there’s a weird peace 

that I can feel 

the scented breeze 

a medicine 

 

So I need to sing something about 

this place that it is almost my house 

 

Among pine trees 

the pine resin 

my nostrils fills 

and makes me breath 

 

The sea here plays 

hide and seek 

under the peaks 

you can find it 

 

It’s time to say that I belong 

to this inlet where zephyr is strong 

 

Airmed* unfolded her 

magic mantle 

and separated the herbs 

according to their proper order

 

This is Airmed’s Land 

I am so sure 

the Mediterranean 

can heal my soul 

 

 

Deiva Marina (SP), 7th April 2024 

 

* Airmed era una divinità della mitologia celtica, particolarmente venerata nell'antica mitologia irlandese. Era associata alla guarigione, alle erbe medicinali e al benessere. Secondo la leggenda, Airmed era una delle figlie di Dian Cecht, il dio irlandese della medicina, e faceva parte dei Tuatha Dé Danann, un popolo di divinità nella mitologia irlandese. Si dice che Airmed avesse il potere di curare le ferite e le malattie attraverso l'uso delle erbe e delle piante.

Holy thursday

 

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Holy thursday 

a prayer for me 

I am exhausted 

as I’m bleeding 

 

as my blood coming out 

can heal my soul so weak 

 

Holy thursday 

I don’t know why 

I am here still singing 

while I’m close to die 

 

as my breath is made of sand 

and I feel so bad 

 

And I don’t know if it is the loneliness 

that makes me feel so cold and close to nothingness 

maybe this is the same feeling of Jesus 

these days so many years ago

It is Saint Patrick’s day

 

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It is Saint Patrick’s day 

and I have met a snake 

in the wood, walking 

 

It was huge and black 

the biggest I’ve ever met 

in the wood, singing 

 

and today my thoughts go to Ireland 

where the legends say there are no snakes 

 

And still today everytime that I feel down 

I come back to Ireland 

It’s not a true travel only with the thoughts I go 

back to Ireland 

 

In a past almost erased 

I swore to belong to that land 

called Ireland 

 

And a huge part of me 

still stays on those cliffs 

looking at the ocean 

 

yes today my thoughts go to Ireland 

where the legends say you can meet the saints 

 

And still today everytime that I feel down 

I come back to Ireland 

It’s not a true travel only with the thoughts I go 

back to Ireland 

 

Saint Patrick’s day 2024

Jazz

 

 

 

 

 

 

E mentre il jazz 

marea icastica 

invadeva il silenzio 

acrilico indefinito 

delle mie orecchie 

ho immaginato impudico 

le mie labbra appoggiarsi 

sulle tue sconosciute 

assaggiarne il sapore 

inedito proibito 

sentire il suono vibrare 

tra i due crani tangenti

scambio di pensieri 

al ritmo di musica 

.....

e la mia mano 

sui tuoi jeans caldi.

Holy spring

 

Mi avvolgo di acqua 

maestra antica 

mentre l'inverno scivola 

via nella notte. 

 

Santa Primavera 

che fai fiorire il cielo 

raccontaci storie nuove 

indicaci vie diverse 

per abbandonare 

il sentiero del sangue 

che conduce 

alla morte. 

 

 Alban Eilir - Equinozio di Primavera

The violets are becoming dim

 

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The violets are becoming dim 

over the sacred hill 

like me, in the past I’ve been 

so many more things 

 

I have been a singer, I have been a writer, I have been a dreamer 

now I am almost nothing 

 

The violets are becoming dim 

Is this a sign of destiny? 

In this era of wretched feelings 

everything is faded and weak 

 

I have been much stronger, I have been a lover, I have been a wizard 

now I am almost nothing 

 

Over this hill I have discovered 

for the first time the Celtic flame 

it is impalpable but so strong 

that I have still it in my head 

 

After all these years, after all these years, after all these years 

 

The violets are becoming dim 

and the world is changing it’s clear 

I’m still trying to protect the 

little beauty inside to me 

 

I can touch it sometimes, in those special places, like this one I dwell in 

before all becomes nothing 

 

Over this hill I have discovered 

for the first time the Celtic flame 

it is impalpable but so strong 

that I have still it in my head 

 

After all these years, after all these years, after all these years 

 

 

21st February

Eight fawns

 

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I’ve just seen eight fawns 

in the field, it’s Imbolc 

and I pray that it is a good sign for all 

 

I know the stars foresee gloom 

and there’s not any good clue 

so I pray that can change it all 

 

Imbolc is the feast 

that can sweeten the grief 

giving some hope 

with a white storm 

 

The frozen sacred clearing 

surrounded by the woods 

but in the air there is 

the spring with its new mood 

 

Then the fawns are disappeared 

in a way that is not clear 

suddenly they were here and they are no more 

 

You say that it is a sign 

the dimensions are still tied 

and today only today the passage is wide open 

 

Imbolc is the feast 

that can sweeten the grief 

giving some hope 

with a white storm 

 

The frozen sacred clearing 

surrounded by the woods 

but in the air there is 

the spring with its new mood