Respiro il cammino
e cospargo di luce
la mia pelle stanca
nel mattino apocrifo
di acqua e di occhi
di aria e di suoni
solitudine pura.
Antalya, Turchia
venerdì 27 aprile 2018
venerdì 20 aprile 2018
Rettile
Sono stato povero
di intenti e parole
rettile sul ghiaccio
in attesa del sole
Nella foto l'archivolto della Pieve di Trebbo (Mo).
di intenti e parole
rettile sul ghiaccio
in attesa del sole
Nella foto l'archivolto della Pieve di Trebbo (Mo).
mercoledì 18 aprile 2018
To burns into the words
I hope I can now feel
as the spears give no fear
I want to drain my tears
where the desert begins
And then to perceive time
as it was only a tale
that someone told me
when I was just a babe
Like a baul
I sing a song
to try to burn
into the words
Under this wall
we’re seven roads
coming from north
and now so close
After this song
one of these soul
will have the work
the fire to hold
We all are pilgrims
along the roads sometimes
during this cold spring
can we have two new eyes?
Like a baul
I sing a song
to try to burn
into the words
Under this home
we’re seven roads
coming from north
and now so close
After this song
one of these soul
will have the work
the fire to hold
as the spears give no fear
I want to drain my tears
where the desert begins
And then to perceive time
as it was only a tale
that someone told me
when I was just a babe
Like a baul
I sing a song
to try to burn
into the words
Under this wall
we’re seven roads
coming from north
and now so close
After this song
one of these soul
will have the work
the fire to hold
We all are pilgrims
along the roads sometimes
during this cold spring
can we have two new eyes?
Like a baul
I sing a song
to try to burn
into the words
Under this home
we’re seven roads
coming from north
and now so close
After this song
one of these soul
will have the work
the fire to hold
mercoledì 11 aprile 2018
Conoscenza tessile
Ragni sapienti
sui rami nuovi
di viti piangenti
tessono il tempo
ciò che siamo stati
e potremmo essere
come le prime rughe
sulle nostre fronti
mappe dei giorni
e delle notti insonni.
Nel mio braccio ferito
la conoscenza antica
feroce dell'aracnide
che pulsa nel sangue
in attesa di liberazione.
Iscriviti a:
Post (Atom)