The great north

LISTEN TO - ASCOLTA








The paths going to west
are everyday less used
and there is not a trace
of any human foot

Yes I am the last one
that walks along this land
without knowing if it's
here all my destiny

We are in the moment of the great north 
each ray of light has a big worth 
and every day the light goes forth 
the old year is now ready to burst 

I pick the holy rare mistletoe 
to call abundance for my little world 
and I will give some to all my loves 
now that I am really alone 

The social year is at
its so desired end
I know that I have let
ghosts growing in my head

But I have got inside
still crumbles of my life
I have to nourish time
to find back my divine

We are in the moment of the great north 
each ray of light has a big worth 
and every day the light goes forth 
the old year is now ready to burst 

I pick the holy rare mistletoe 
to call abundance for my little world 
and I will give some to all my loves 
now that I am really alone

But it don't snow here, stays pretty green

Un natale di sole. Giornate terse che rendono gli spazi immobili, quasi fossero dipinti rinascimentali. I due bordi della pianura, ricamati di bianco, si osservano. Un natale fradicio di passato. Ma con il gusto di un futuro che non vuole palesarsi e che si osserva soltanto al di là di una vetrina. Giornate di voci assordanti e sere raccolte in una solitudine imperfetta. Cupa e mistica allo stesso tempo. Cosa sono io in questi giorni in cui la nuova luce fa capolino al di là delle colline dell'ovest? Dopo venti anni dalla mia grande rivoluzione, è forse il tempo per sconvolger di nuovo tutto? Ho le forze per creare una nuova sacralità? Per ribaltare l'altare e costruirne uno nuovo? Fra pochi giorni mi attenderanno 366 pagine bianche da riempire di lettere. Saranno parole stanche e trascinate come barche nel fango? Oppure parole leggere, di ispirazione nuova? Intanto, fuori, nel giardino che non sento più mio, una rosa è sbocciata. Come fosse primavera. Come per dire che la vita va avanti ed è pronta a sorprenderci sempre. Anche se teniamo gli occhi chiusi. “But it don't snow here, stays pretty green.... Oh, I wish I had a river I could skate away on”. 

Le parole in inglese sono tratte da “River” di Joni Mitchell

Call it Solstice or call it Christmas

LISTEN TO - ASCOLTA








Call it Solstice or call it Christmas
but it is a change
by the fireplace I wait for
some crumbles of faith

When did start the dusk of it?
It was when I started to slay me

But the new light has come with 
the strength of the streams 
the sire of winter 
while wind hints at spring 

I feel a bit grateful 
along this wet field 
while I catch fresh herbs 
from darkness I flee 

I set forth to reach a place where
there are no more ghouls
but with grief I understand
they are in my soul

Since when have I this grim cast?
Since when I don this rapped mask

But the new light has come with 
the strength of the streams 
the sire of winter 
while wind hints at spring 

I feel a bit grateful 
along this wet field while 
I catch fresh herbs 
from darkness I flee

Between black and blue

LISTEN TO - ASCOLTA







I want to sing, slowly
until comes midnight
some twinkles are showing
but there is no light

I sing without knowing
why I'm still alive
my spirit is scrawny
in the gut of mine

It's so far, it's so far that emotion 
that I have felt and so loved in past times 
I want to cry, I want to cry a vast ocean 
but I'm so gaunt that I cannot try 

My faith's like the flurry of snow 
it covers some soil and some not 

My notes are now dappling
the floor of my room
and my words are parrying
everything is true

I'm brittling and hissing
while my snarl is mute
and the night is rustling
between black and blue

It's so far, it's so far that emotion 
that I have felt and so loved in past times 
I want to cry, I want to cry a vast ocean 
but I'm so gaunt that I cannot try 

My faith's like the flurry of snow 
it covers some soil and some not

Everything is perspective

LISTEN TO - ASCOLTA













You said me that there's a place
where I can be myself
completely, but I don't know where it is

Yes, a defiant I am
it's the sap in my veins
that flows only if I halt for a moment

Everything is perspective 
there is nothing else 
the way I use adjectives 
the tense of the verbs 
I understand everyday something more 
but the next day I'm still weak and so cold 

But everything is perspective 
and there is no shame 
It's not enough to be active 
to fight drowsy days 
I have to cling to my deepest desires 
reluctantly putting them in the fire 

I shimmer when I'm in peace
when I'm not on my knees
and from my perch I can see further

In those days I'm like an owl
that can hoot on its trunk
to say to the night there is a king

Everything is perspective 
there is nothing else 
the way I use adjectives 
the tense of the verbs 
I understand everyday something more 
but the next day I'm still weak and so cold 

But everything is perspective 
and there is no shame 
not enough to be active 
to fight drowsy days 
I have to cling to my deepest desires 
reluctantly to put them in the fire

Shalechet*

Le ultime a cadere
sono quelle del melo
ancora verdi e rigide
la veglia del solstizio
quando l'inverno bussa
alla porta socchiusa
del giardino segreto.

* “Foglie cadute” in ebraico

This house

LISTEN TO - ASCOLTA











This house has been standing for some hundred years
Its big walls have been crossed by joy and by fear
I know that every room is full of ancient stories
Of birth and death, of shame and also of glory
But, now it’s my turn to show
That, I can be part of all
Through my heart and my work

Here I can discover everyday some more
About an ancient and so fascinating world
And I can see into every single stone
A message made of images and of words
Digging under the old floor
I reach the past in a blow
There is so much to learn

In this Land so ancient I was born 
And it will rot for sure my bones 
And in this house, I will build my nest 
To esc from the chaos and to find some rest 

Yes, my ancestors are looking at me 
They know that I need to believe 
That I’m protected when I stay here 
And I will be helped to dry my tears 

And while I discover in the old documents
some interesting stories and coincidence
There are the round pebbles under the next floor
and beams are made by elm or sometimes by oak
I am soaked into hope
while I tread on gutted floors
Is this the right weft to draw?

The toils will be faced through the will-power
until my mind is rapt in this way so utter
sometimes there will be bounty and mirth
among the oaks and the ash trees
but I guess some other times
the path will be upright
and I will need my forbearance  

In this Land so ancient I was born 
And it will rot for sure my bones 
And in this house, I will build my nest 
To esc from the chaos and to find some rest 

Yes, my ancestors are looking at me 
They know that I need to believe 
That I’m protected when I stay here 
And I will be helped to dry my tears

Non è venuto giorno

Non è venuto giorno:
solo rivoli di fumo
sulle strade incupite
e alfabeto di ghiaccio
mai decifrato.

Siamo ombre sospese
appese a un sole assente
marionette fradice
bisbigli delle Norne*.




* Nella mitologia norrena, le Norne - dall'antico Norreno "Norn" che significa "colei che bisbiglia un segreto” - sono le tre divinità che tessono l'arazzo del destino. La vita di ogni persona è un filo nel loro telaio e la sua lunghezza corrisponde alla lunghezza della vita dell'individuo.

When the winter howls to shoo the autumn

LISTEN TO - ASCOLTA














In these late evenings
when the sky is grey but it's not so cold
After some praying
I push my thoughts away, put them on a boat

When it's evening and it's raining on the roof and my soul 
in these moments I remember all: the lovers, the friends and my hopes 
and there's a big graveyard for them all, and everyday someone else in the tombs 

Growing means also to stop to mull, to grizzle, to mutter and to frown 
I've to learn first of all to shrug, to heal the bruise on my heart 
Future shan't clad in, fear or love, it will hunch itself to take new forms 

In these late evenings
when the winter howls to shoo the autumn
I become a poacher
to kill the spiders on the spiderweb

When it's evening and it's raining on the roof and my soul 
in these moments I remember all: the lovers, the friends and my hopes 
and there is a big graveyard for them all, and everyday someone else in the tombs 

Growing means also to stop to mull, to grizzle, to mutter and to frown 
I've to learn first of all to shrug, to heal the bruise on my heart 
Future shan't clad in, fear or love, it will hunch itself to take new forms

Inipi *

Ho visto le stelle brillare
sulle pietre accese
firmamento ancestrale
proiettato sull'anima.

Ho respirato il fuoco
nell'acqua incandescente
fin dentro le viscere
a bruciare il buio.

* La cerimonia Inipi è la versione Sioux della capanna sudatoria o capanna della purificazione.

Come Cadmo

A stento tocca il sangue
questo sorriso frigido
sottile come la falce
dopo la mietitura
come il sole lebbroso
dei giorni di granito
semina di novembre.

Come Cadmo* ho seguito
i bisbigli dell'oracolo
tra boschi spinati
e serpi acuminate
ma senza trovare
la mia nuova terra
da fortificare.

* Cadmo è un personaggio della mitologia greca, figlio di Agenore, re di Tiro e di Telefassa, nonché fratello di Europa. È considerato il fondatore della città greca di Tebe.

Cloak

LISTEN TO - ASCOLTA








The fog on the wood is the cloak of the seeds
I've prayed for three nights to stop to breath
the total loneliness of Samhain
has shown that my life is into the unease

Drenched into the cold I feel my hackles rise
while I wait in silence for the twilit light
the rustling trees announce a new time
while there is a quarrel between death and life

But remember that after the fog comes always a gleam of sun 
you can't believe under the hood that the light is not far 
and I can see that hint before the cry 
but first of then you have to try 

I feel in these days almost totally unmanned
while I know I should be instead hell-bent
I still have to learn to be supple as sand
to change my shape without changing myself

But remember that after the fog comes always a gleam of sun 
you can't believe under the hood that the light is not far 
and I can see that hint before crying 
but first of then you have to try 

2nd November 2019

The saddest Samhain of all

LISTEN TO - ASCOLTA














There is no light
And it’s cold
Outside and inside my soul

And there is no life
It is death
The only name of my world

It is the saddest Samhain of all

It is so lonely 
It so lonely 
This Samhain 

I am a little man 
Without any hand 
To take care of him 

I must admit
I have lost
My plans are out, my choices wrong

I can’t believe
It’s no more
The time of Faith in some God

It is the saddest Samhain of all

It is so lonely 
It so lonely 
This Samhain 

There is no glory 
And no good story 
To say something 

I am a little man 
Without any hand 
To take care of him 

31st October - 1st November

Last roses before Samhain

LISTEN TO - ASCOLTA








Last roses before Samhain
we're drenched in the warmth
I am so thankful and grateful
to Goddess and to God
I don't know if I deserve
I don't know if I am right
I only know that I am still alive

The Land of Summer goes away fast 
over the west 
before I can 
realize that 

The Land of Winter is giving its hand 
over the fell 
and I can bet 
It is an end 

Last sunny days before
the season will fall and
Samhain is so close
that I can breathe its soul
I don't know if I'm ready
I don't know if I'm me
I only know that gods want me to live

The Land of Summer goes away fast 
over the west 
before I can 
realize that 

The Land of Winter is giving its hand 
over the fell 
and I can bet 
It is an end 

19th October 2019

What if I was here thousand years ago

LISTEN TO - ASCOLTA 








What if I was here thousand years ago
to see or to build these temples?
Under the ground there are still the thoughts
of those who could this magic handle

the ancestors are still present here
their message is still for me

These stones speak about sacrifice 
and of extasy 
I am here 
To catch some rise 
Or some energy 

Now that outside all speaks of nothingness 
Under the ground there is something of true 

What if I was here thousand years ago
to heal myself in these rituals
we have lost this wisdom today at all
but here there is still some residual

the ancestors are still present here
their message is still for me

These stones speak about sacrifice 
and of extasy 
I am here To catch some rise 
Or some energy 

Now that outside all speaks of nothingness 
Under the ground there is something of true 

12th October 2019, Domus de Janas di Anghelu Ruju (nella foto)

Macigni

La pioggia tesse il silenzio
sulla notte, bordo sottile
ma denti freddi grattano
sul muro nebbioso.

L’assenza si fa vetro
scarnifica il sonno
e trasforma le ore
in macigni deformi.

Keep firm my roots

LISTEN TO - ASCOLTA









In these times of change
I have not to be blind
and to keep firm my roots
remembering to try
to love the life

I faced so many changes
it is not the first time
and I have understood
I've got inside some truth
to save me through

But to feel better 
I have to imagine 
that first or then 
there will be an end 
and a moment of true peace and of purity of intentions 
but I know that may be this is not the right dimension 

In these times of confusion
I've to find balance
to avoid new intrusions
and some more challenge
that I don't need

But to feel better 
I have to imagine 
that first or then 
there will be an end 
and a moment of true peace and of purity of intentions 
but I know that may be this is not the right dimension

Primigenio

Inverno primigenio
eppure il granoturco
tocca le stelle
e cammino la notte
come esule
in questo luogo ostile
che sentivo casa.



L'immagine è tratta da:
https://gramho.com/explore-hashtag/Granoturco

Feel the balance

LISTEN TO - ASCOLTA














The wood is in silence
waiting for the waters *
it’s the same magic of every year
feel the balance between the peace and the fear

The wood stops the fire
of the last summer
it’s the end of the harvest of the year
feel the balance between darkness and light

The leaves can mingle with sky 
 and without noise they fall 
to renew the life 

The leaves can mingle with sky 
and autumn is knocking 
at the door of my soul 
it’s the time of fulfilment 

The wood sings a prayer
In the early evening
Sunset is the beginning of autumn
feel the balance between the death and the life

The leaves can mingle with sky 
and without noise they fall 
to renew the life 

The leaves can mingle with sky 
and autumn is knocking 
at the door of my soul 
it’s the time of fulfilment 

22th September 2019 
* the Autumn Equinox in Druidry is Alban Elfed, which means 'The Light of the Water'

Onomatopeico

Cielo onomatopeico:
la danza segreta degli insetti
che si oppone al vento,
il dolce sangue dell’estate
sui campi stuprati.

L'ultima notte nudo

L'ultima notte nudo
sotto stelle rapaci
accanto a mostri antichi
e a maschere nuove.

L'autunno sarà clessidra
segnerà un passo nuovo
o l'oscuro perpetuarsi
della palude-mantide.

Sligo along the river

LISTEN TO - ASCOLTA 









There is a spider web
over Yeats' statue
does it mean poetry is going to die?

I read some poems
over Yeats' statue in Sligo
but I am going to cry

Sligo along the river 
is a travel in the poetry 
going from the ocean to the 
sacred Lough Gill 
with his words 

There is some little dust
over Yeats' statue
but it's clear here his words are still alive

So in the deep myself
I feel little hope
that someway the eternity exists

Boating on the Garavogue 
when sea becomes a lake 
and in front of me there is 
the little island he called 
Innisfree 

26th August 2019 Sligo, Ireland

Rosses Point

LISTEN TO - ASCOLTA








By this windy point they say
next step is America
It's a long Atlantic way
that cut for millennia
The vastness can suggest we need a place to be

Cliffs and beaches here can speak
of the end of the world
doesn't matter if it is
for someone or all
The end has always been something new to be

And the seagulls are singing  
together with the ocean  
and there is not a ceiling  
if not the sky so deep  

People on the border of Europe  
the most western men of all  
I pretend to be one of them  
but to another place I belong  

Rosses is a good point
for  people and for fairies
here they can speak the same words
as said the great Yeats
He said "good people" steal the people's souls here*

And the seagulls are singing  
together with the ocean  
and there is not a ceiling  
if not the sky so deep  

People on the border of Europe  
the most western men of all  
I pretend to be one of them  
but to another place I belong  

25th August 2019 Roses Point, Co. Sligo, Ireland  

* No wise peasant would fall asleep under its low cliff, for he who sleeps here may wake ‘silly,’ the ‘good people’ having carried off his soul  (from "The Celtic Twilight", by W.B. Yeats)

In these stones

LISTEN TO - ASCOLTA














Out of the womb there's a light
but in the womb bears the life
this is the meaning of this place
we can learn here without mistake

I have been a crumble of land
before becoming a man
this is the matrix of my soul
where I will die where I was born

In these stones 
the ancient power was born 
it has not left us alone 
we can touch it by our own 

In these stones 
the ancestors left their call 
for us so that we can know 
today more than before 

Maybe this could be a tomb
but I am not sure at all
it is the sacred mother's womb
to which all of us belong

In these stones 
the ancient power was born 
it has not left us alone 
we can touch it by our own 

In these stones 
the ancestors left their call 
for us so that we can know t
oday more than before 

24th August 2019, Carrowkeel megalithic cemetery, Co. Sligo, Ireland

From Rossnowlagh

LISTEN TO - ASCOLTA 









The wild Atlantic walk
my feet are so cold
but I can feel inside a taste of freedom

It's a so sacred land
with this so dark sand
clouds in the sky can speak of a real freedom

It's a sort of meditation 
among waves of west 
or a little consolation 
after all that bad 
once again I feel so grateful to fairy Ireland 

From Rossnowlagh I can
going towards west
reach America or a new wisdom

In these points of frontier
between land and the sea
the spirit seems to live in a new Kingdom

It's a sort of meditation 
among waves of west 
or a little consolation 
after all that bad 
once again I feel so grateful to fairy Ireland 

23th August, Rossnowlagh, Co. Donegal, Ireland

Decisi

Decisi di sopravvivere
anche tra fiotti di buio incalzante
come foglia che resiste a novembre
come Ifigenia fuggita dall'Aulide
per truffare la morte.

Decisi da solo
anche se il vento bussava forte
senza oracoli e ipotesi di vita
senza consigli di noncuranza muti
soltanto per disobbedire.

Ballisodare

LISTEN TO - ASCOLTA








Along the river in Ballisodare
I write a letter to myself
and the words are coming
out the mouth like the rain
from the sky to the water, so dark

It is a long long time 
I don't come to Ireland 
and I missed this cold wind 
on my no more young face 
but yes it's still a big inspiration 
that comes without intentions 
from this place 

There are seagulls on the Owenmore
I let coming out some of my thoughts
Yes it is the first time
since a lot of time
I don't speak directly, to me

It is a long long time 
I don't come to Ireland 
and I missed this cold wind 
on my no more young face 
but yes it's still a big inspiration 
that comes without intentions 
from this place 

Ballisodare, Co. Sligo – Ireland 22th August 2019

Nineteenth of August

LISTEN TO - ASCOLTA 









Nineteenth of August
the wood is burning
some smell of autumn
it is my birthday

Mountains are dried
under the sun
owl is in silence
my time is running

And when the sunset starts to cry 
behind the holy west 
I prepare myself to die 
inside my native nest 

This is the most sacred time for me 
and I have to stay here 
I was here this day for twenty years 
and I know I will be 

August nineteenth
my birthday candles
were blown out by wind
my life I can't handle

And when the sunset starts to cry 
behind the holy west 
I prepare myself to die 
inside my native nest 

This is the most sacred time for me 
and I have to stay here 
I was here this day for twenty years 
and I know I will be

Ventre

Labirinti di roccia
nel ventre della terra
ancora sussurrano
voci dal passato
chi per un sorso di sole
moriva d'oscurità.


Miniere di Gambatesa

Labirinti d'ossa

So ancora rinchiudermi:
palpebre serrate
anima microbica

Nei labirinti d'ossa
le vostre facce deformi
grondanti d'ipocrisia
non riescon a osservarmi.

Even if it is summer

LISTEN TO - ASCOLTA





 


The fog covers the mountains
even if it is summer
I remember that old song
written so many years ago
when I thought everything could happen in my life
when I thought everything was going to become gold

It is cold and it's raining
even if it is summer
life is changed so much
that I can't recognize
if it is the one I have planned in my past
if it is still what I can feel my life in part

I've always prayed 
when the rain 
even if it's summer came 

Remembering 
I was so weak 
and I can be that boy still 

I remember her voice
covering all the noise
singing my song so well
that I bewared myself
and the fog on summer still inspires some words
even if I am dried and I am become old

I've always prayed 
when the rain even 
if it's summer came 

Remembering 
I was so weak 
and I can be that boy still

28th July 2019

Grondan le veneziane

Ho ferito il tempo
sotto il sole obliquo
impietoso spettatore
della mia umanità.

Grondan le veneziane
di luce scomposta
mentre dieci anni
scorron tra le pagine
e le lettere sbiadite.

Siamo istanti disperati
in cerca d'eternità.

Les beaux jours

LISTEN TO - ASCOLTA








Les beaux jours sont quand les rêves ne sont plus là
Les beaux jours sont quand la pluie danse une marche
dans les arbres

Les beaux jours sont quand je peux voir des images
qui sont runes écrites par Dieu avec les nuages
dans le ciel

C'est seulment un peu d'automne 
en pleine été 
Je proclame l'abandon 
de la banalité 
le monde approche de votre sentiment 

La pluie sur ces montagnes 
est une bénédiction 
Je vois la petite araignée 
voler sur l'eau 
le monde entier change en un instant 

Les beaux jours sont quand je suis moi un peu plus
et quand tu arrêtes de dire ton “J'accuse”
comme toujours

C'est seulment un peu d'automne 
en pleine été 
Je proclame l'abandon 
de la banalité 
le monde approche de votre sentiment 

La pluie sur ces montagnes 
est une bénédiction 
Je vois la petite araignée 
voler sur l'eau 
le monde entier change en un instant

The only possible harvest

LISTEN TO - ASCOLTA 








The only way for me
the only possible harvest
it is to stay here
close to the wood in this garden

It's where I was born and where I seeded the earth
It's where I was called back when I lost my heart

What is the harvest 
if not a perspective 
to join the future 
in a different way 

What is the harvest 
the blood on the wheat field 
to understand that 
something is changed 

The only place to be
during this night of harvest
I know I've many things
to catch and to leave to others

It's where I belong, among the spirits I know
It's where I belong, among the fields that I know

What is the harvest 
if not a perspective 
to join the future 
in a different way 

What is the harvest 
the blood on the wheat field 
to understand that 
something is changed 

Night of Lughnasadh

Mostro

L’insonnia reifica il mostro
diviene carne e respiro
occhi che giudicano
senza conoscere.
La mattina è sole nuovo
sui resti miserabili
raccolto di sangue
tra spighe mature.

Belladonna

Basta un lieve sussurro
sulla corteccia dell'acqua
per aprire dimensioni
di luce e alterità
litote esasperata
frutto della belladonna
accanto al rosmarino.

Meanwhile

LISTEN TO - ASCOLTA 














Meanwhile, the time goes on to flow
and no frontier can hold its strength
and I am living with no hope
no I don't want to know my fate

I swear I will remain in the wood 
where there's a path to win and to lose 
until now, it was my only way 
until now, it was my special prayer 

Sometimes I think there's nothing to do 
that I can't find any sincere clue 
but here the sun among the trees 
it says I've got again to win, to win 

Sometimes I think a special fate
is waiting for me there, in some place
but she says “the only way to change
your fate is to let it rain”, let it rain *

I swear I will remain in the wood 
where there's a path to win and to lose 
until now, it was my only way 
until now, it was my special prayer 

Sometimes I think there's nothing to do 
that I can't find any sincere clue but 
here the sun among the trees it says 
I've got again to win, to win 

* Quote “Wildwood” by Tori Amos

Where the river meets the Atlantic

LISTEN TO - ASCOLTA








What will I be without my youth?
what will I be without this truth?
over this boat tonight
close also to the sky
where the river meets the Atlantic

I let my past going away
as it was something to be erased
I know perfectly
it's the last time for me
with these friendly faces
and new places

Maybe I know 
that I can't know 
something will go and something else not at all 
skin on the bones 
and voice to call 
they are enough the life to carry on … on 

What will I find in my new life
with new habits of some kind?
how many records
in my dreams I'll recall
during the future nights I've got?

Maybe I know 
that I can't know 
something will go and something else not at all 
skin on the bones 
and voice to call 
they are enough the life to carry on … on 

Seixal, Portugal, 31st May 2019

Misericordia estiva

Gli alberi specchiano il silenzio
sulle vetrate livide del cielo
le nuvole paiono grandi occhi
pupille come lampioni accesi:
ecco il dipinto assordante
della misericordia estiva
parentesi ventosa del tempo.

From the west

LISTEN TO ASCOLTA 








The wind from the ocean
says there's a new season
coming from the west
I am on this island
looking at the sunset
shining from the west

And I'm just a little man 
yes I'm just a little man 
what else to desire 
if not let the fire 
of the summer coming 
from the west? 
The ancient calendar 
of stones on this island 
says today a new year starts* 
from the west 

The ancient people
living on this island
knew all about the west
they watched the short sunsets
into the deep ocean
along the west

And I'm just a little man 
yes I'm just a little man 
what else to desire 
if not let the fire 
of the summer coming 
from the west ? 
The ancient calendar 
of stones on this island 
says today a new year starts* 
from the west 

* Secondo gli antichi abitanti di Lanzarote, i Majos, l'anno nuovo iniziava per il solstizio d'estate, come è testimoniato dal calendario solare di pietra presente a Zonzamas. 

Teguise,  Lanzarote, 20 giugno 2019

Onde

Qui il cielo è solo un sipario
per lo spettacolo del vento
le onde soltanto la corona
per questa terra d'aria e fuoco
ma l'Atlantico urla una storia
da troppo tempo non raccontata.

Famara, Lanzarote, 19 giugno 2019

Accanto all'estate

Piangono gl'alberi
sui polpacci tesi
scivola la strada
verso la pianura.

Accanto all'estate
i serpenti spiano
in fremente attesa
del ritorno del buio.

Tegole

L'estate bussa sulle tegole
le sorprende nude
come braccia appese
ai balconi di giugno.

La luce è un vaso
che trabocca inevitabile
e riversa il cielo
sulla terra attonita.

Frenesia

La frenesia del vento
ha spinto la pioggia a ovest
oltre il confine sottile
fra il fiume e l'oceano
dove solo Dio osserva
l'assenza assoluta.

It comes from the sea

LISTEN TO - ASCOLTA 








Beautiful sky so blue
I would to reach you
Even if I know
That I saw
Men and men alone
Wrecking lost
For you

How did I reach this shore
and this strange state of all
Could have I been
different from this
or the destiny
chooses every piece
of our being

The smell of the wind suggests 
it comes from the sea 
even if it's far from here 
it seems close to me 

Sometimes we believe we are 
so far from our needs 
but if we can breath we'll find 
them already here 

I go on writing songs
in a complete solitude
no one hears the notes
no more
but no matter of
I am grateful
for all

The smell of the wind suggests 
it comes from the sea 
even if it's far from here 
it seems close to me 

Sometimes we believe we are 
so far from our needs 
but if we can breath we'll find 
them already here

Celtic blood

LISTEN TO - ASCOLTA 








It’s quite gloomy springtime day
I walk alone with my old face
But sincerely I have to blame
Myself

‘cause I don’t know really my name
What I was and I became
Since I have chosen oh to change
Into who?

Since I have known about my Celtic blood
Is it true or it’s a laugh?
Since I have lost my sacred heart
I have left myself apart

What I know now I already knew 
Since I was a child for sure 
I really didn’t need the proof 
I had in my hands all the clues 

Now let me try again to go
Along the ancient greenest walk
Full of details that makes the soul
Richer than before

Since I have known about my Celtic blood 
Is it true or it’s a laugh? 
Since I have lost my sacred heart 
I have left myself apart 

What I know now I already knew 
Since I was a child for sure 
I really didn’t need the proof 
I had in my hands all the clues

Cielo - coperchio

Il cielo coperchio
inquietudine appesa
verticale spezzato
orizzonte binario.

Woodrain

La preghiera più pura
la pioggia nel bosco
sulle fronde nuove
fragili ma smaniose:
nessuna parola
nessun canto
è più vicino
a Dio.

Ma i canti antichi
le parole tramandate
di suono in sangue
di sangue in suono
ricordano quel sacro
fiato divino.

Oath

LISTEN TO - ascolta 








Easter means always rain
over the previous flames
so it's a taste of peace
and of some new believes

I take an oath to me
to start a sacred deed
just to rebuild myself
and trying to amend

Holy Friday I don't know 
where is my soul I know 
I have to work hardly to meet it all 

The bulk of myself is lost 
into a dark other world 
with the prayer and the study I call it back home 

My vessel is empty
I put on it some twigs
as symbols of new bet
I take with myself

I swear that I will stop
to be afraid and to boast
I'm not an ancient thane
but only a little man

Holy Friday I don't know 
where is my soul I know 
I have to work hardly to meet it all 

The bulk of myself is lost 
into a dark other world 
with the prayer and the study I call it back home 

I drink some holy mead
while Easter is going
with its sense of rebirth
and with this my new oath

Nella foto, particolare dell'abbazia di Frassinoro (Mo)

Il mondo oltre la pioggia

Il mondo oltre la pioggia
è fragile compagnia
di questi pomeriggi stanchi
melodia dissonante
dal rumore quotidiano
realtà archetipica
di vene fradice
di ricordi antichi
al di là dell'umido sipario.