Bees are running

Sunny afternoon the bees are running
circling 'round you they seem so funny
I pray you won't be like me
you could be happier
I pray your future will be
not as mine not so sad

Near your cradle I can feel your guardian
or a pilgrim come to admire your beauty
I sing to you all the songs
my memory can hold
I hope my voice can call
 back angels you have known

These moments I have in my arms 
the secret of the life 
Your first smiles make me fly so far 
and open up the sky 

In this afternoon the light is blessing
your eyes still so blue that I can't believe
I hope you cannot perceive
how much now I am weak
I pray you only feel
my proudness in being here

Standing next to you I don't need a proof
you come from a place of purity
where knowledge is not hidden
and gods are well known friends
now you look at the ceiling
to try to understand

These moments I have in my arms 
the secret of the life 
Your first smiles make me fly so far 
and open up the sky

Some smell of springtime

Some smell of springtime already here
floating in the air
I miss the times of youth and fear
when I was afraid
to miss every single moment
during which I can discover

Now all seems less interesting
not far from the death
no matter if the fault's to me
or to something else
I want to be free from all the
heavy stuffs on my shoulders

In this Saturday afternoon 
in this so fashionable park 
I try to keep all the blames apart 

I would like to rebuild my world 
but it's almost impossible 
when you have not an enough strong heart 

All other lives now seem to be
so perfect and great
as all other people understand
all of them but me
There's a point when I became wrong?
Or it was all written before?

The most important thing today
is to breathe again
leaving regrets and hard thoughts there
where they can burn away
The new sun is powerful
it can heal also my mood

In this Saturday afternoon 
in this so fashionable park 
I try to keep all the blames apart 

I would like to rebuild my world 
but it's almost impossible 
when you have not an enough strong heart

Dopo la fine dell’incubo

Dopo la fine dell’incubo
la primavera appare nuova
e persino il quotidiano
può assumere valore
come perla nel fango
di nuovo risplendente.

E ancora affogo di sangue nero
instillato dall’arroganza
e dalla superbia ignobile
di chi osa rivolgersi al cielo
senza intravederlo nemmeno
cieco d'inconsapevolezza.

Inner prophet

There’s a picture of the future
Beyond my door of opaque glass
I can’t distinguish it for sure
But intuition is my art

What else to ask if not having
The answers before questions?
What else if the forebodings
Can be confirmed them all?

……………

I start to climb the eleven 
Levels of prophecy * 
The time is not a matter 
I claim eternity 

May be I’ll be go higher 
Knowing before what happens 
But time is also a lier 
And we can change it with hands 

And is Moses still on the top? 
Or someone else had said it all? 

And the raven lady **
Knows everything is going to be
And she speaks of amazing
Times of great prosperity

But all the abundances
Creates debts in the years
And the future will be
A chilly empty street

 …….............

* Maimonide (famoso rabbino e cabalista del 1100) ne “La Guida dei Perplessi” descrive 11 livelli di profezia, con quella di Mosè la più alta in assoluto, e quindi più diretta. I successivi livelli minori riducono l'immediatezza tra Dio e profeta, presentando profezie ottenute con l'ausilio di fattori esterni ed indiretti, tramite angeli e sogni. 

** Nei componimenti “Le profezie della Mórrígan”, la Mórrígan, la dea irlandese della guerra (spesso associata a un corvo), si reca sulle alture e alle foci dei fiumi e racconta due profezie, narrando prima di un'età felice in cui la natura produce abbondanza di frutti e in cui gli uomini vivono in pace e serenità e subito dopo, però, dei tempi della fine del mondo, caratterizzati da una natura gelida e infeconda e da una società in cui regnano il tradimento e la violenza. 

Questa composizione è stata pubblicata sul quinto numero della rivista letteraria “The Circle Review”, dove potrete trovare il testo completo, scaricabile gratuitamente qui

St Patrick

You‘re known from Dublin City
To all the new America
You bring the spring to people
But they know who you really are?

A spirit a saints
A druid a flame
To all the preacher men

Nobody knows your story
But only your legend
Because your giant glory
Cannot be acknowledged

So I take a song
From the well you know
For all the preacher men

You should have been here today 
Into this great confusion 
You should have saved the souls 
That are all lost inside the pain 

I am one of those men 
That try to steal a prayer 
From all the places where 
You have lived and predicated 

You should have saved the world 

And in Donegal County
When you killed the evil serpent
The lake is still red coloured
And pilgrims pray near the waters

And no more serpents
Could live in this Land
The greenest ever heard

And in that island of lake
Is there the access to the hell?
Is my so feeble faith
Enough to save me from that

Can I understand
The Trinity sense
Through a shamrock in your hands?

You should have been here today 
Into this great confusion 
You should have saved the souls 
That are all lost inside the pain 

I am one of those men 
That try to steal a prayer 
From all the places where 
You have lived and predicated 

You should have saved the world 

Buon St Patrick day 2014 
Nella foto: La statua di San patrizio nell’isola in mezzo al Lough Derg, contea di Donegal, Irlanda