Full moon before Samhain

Full moon
Before
Samhain

The wood
Is both
Dark and bright

The clouds embrace the trees
My eyes become a gift
To see the other world

The truth
Is that
I’m blind

Can’t see
I am
Astray

‘Cause I go on pretending
To find outside some reason
While I know there’s not

Gates begin to be opened 
With this full moon
I feel something is broken 
Under my hood 

I dedicate my failure 
To this Samhain 
Hoping not to be bachelor 
Of all my dreams 

I search
The edge
Of time

I know
I can’t
Change the life

If before I don’t admit
All the choices I have made
Are absurdly wrong

Gates begin to be opened 
With this full moon 
I feel something is broken 
Under my hood 

I dedicate my failure 
To this Samhain 
Hoping not to be bachelor 
Of all my dreams 

19th October 2013

Ageing

Again the fog
Over the tops
Around the trees
With still the leaves

What about me
Yesterday seems
Distant as it’s
Passed century

 I feel I am ageing 
Now more than before 
My days became flames 
They burn up my youth 

I remember perfectly all 
All what I do right and wrong 

What I really miss 
Is my consciousness 
That seems to stay here 
But can’t make me aware 

I go on here writing songs 
But what am I now become? 

I walked so long
At the same not
Sometimes it seems
I just begin

Cannot say what
I have built on
My past days of
Me weak and strong

I feel I am ageing 
Now more than before 
My days became flames 
They burn up my youth 

 I remember perfectly all 
All what I do right and wrong 

What I really miss 
Is my consciousness 
That seems to stay here
But can’t make me aware 

I go on here writing songs 
But what am I now become?

Roʼèh *

L’ovest smentisce e conferma
le mie riflessioni fragili
come sibilla isterica
in attesa di un’eclisse.

Stralci di nubi si arroccano
sulle mie palpebre sfinite
come antenati in attesa
di essere ascoltati.

* “Sibilla” in ebraico

Gòlgota *

Ci sono vene sul cranio
meridiani, paralleli
direzioni archetipiche
di pensieri antropici.

Crediamo di racchiudere
mille e più mille voci
ma siamo solamente
sottile dialogo con Dio.

 * “Cranio” in ebraico 
Nell'immagine, circuiti neuronali di un cervello umano.

The pride’s becoming shame

Please let me know
What’s going on
Now that all the mothers are calling
And there’s new tomorrow falling
Here

Why here I was born?
Where then I will fall?
I found answers in my inside
But all seems so weak around me
Now

I never spoke about my Country 
Italy was just a place 
Where just for a simple case 
I was born 

But in these days I’m so angry 
That the pride’s becoming shame 
And sometimes the only chances 
Seem to escape 

Please you right there
Stop to be wrong
Don’t you see the people crying
And children being by then tired
Here

I’m not one of those
Full of complains and odds
But can my scream be so loud to
Go over the fields and reach you
Now?

I never spoke about my Country 
Italy was just a place 
Where just for a simple case 
I was born 

But in these days I’m so angry 
That the pride’s becoming shame 
And sometimes the only chances 
Seem to escape

Setaccio

Ludibrio dei giorni
il messia mai nato
illusioni folte
d’escatologia:
striscia il colore
giallo d’autunno.

Immergo le mani
nel codice binario
divino sterile
purezza algebrica
sui campi fradici
di fango e nebbia.

Il setaccio del tempo
sottrae umanità.