POETRY

HORTIS HESPERIDUM > Un prodigio allora avviene: aulenti selve e fonti, fresche nell’ombra adornano tutti i lidi, e i frutti d’oro penduli dai rami. In un nimbo beato di fragranze, il talamo rifulse tra ghirlande di quei fiori, di quei frutti. Ivi s’assise, più che mai bella Amalfi, e fu regina, mentre intorno cantavano le Grazie, i felici imenei. Fiori …

PAESETTO DI RIVIERA > La sera amorosa ha raccolto le logge, per farle salpare. Le case tranquille, sognanti la rosa. Vaghezza dei poggi, discendono al mare, in isole, in ville, accanto alle chiese. LITTLE VILLAGE OF RIVIERA > The amorous evening has collected the lodges, to make them sail. The quiet houses, dreamy pink. Vagueness of the hills, descended to …

LA CITTA MARINARA > Volta ella è a Oriente; in quell’istesso mattino scendeva dai pallidi d’ulivi amalfitani clivi, leggiadra gioventude; l’arme in su la spalla; il carme in su le labbra; l’onda di fronte immensa; e la baldanza in core. E intanto la profonda mente scrivea dei padri una prudente legge, che resse la marina gente; e porgea ai nocchieri, …

CIRCLE POEMS Whenever I have a day off, I write a new poem. Does this mean you shouldn’t work, or that you write best on your day off? For example, this is the poem I wrote today. When he was 20, he understood some of the secrets of life, and undertook to write them down so simply that even an …

OBSESSION I photograph, I crave, I cut, I paste, I drawing, I write.                                                        I have to stop time! I want to capture the world!                                                                     I have to imprison the emotions!                                                                                               In order to free myself. (Olga Celuch)  

ALL A brazen word and swollen with self-importance. It should be written in quotation marks. He pretends not to leave anything out, to concentrate, include, contain and take. But it is only a shred storm. (Wislawa Szymborska) http://www.amazon.com/Poems-New-Collected-Wislawa-Szymborska/dp/0156011468/ref=asap_bc?ie=UTF8

BETWEEN THE HEART AND A MAPLE LEAF Between the heart and a maple leaf there is a thread, along which the thought walking barefoot, and after its passage, or before his arrival, dance on the golden thread the wasp and horsefly. The stout fly and wasp in her brindle coat; they are a little ugly, but you can take it …

ONE MORNING IN SWEDEN Morning, the wind blew, the flags waving and tended the area, there was ice under the white birches. Then passes someone dressed in black, walking with heavy steps, as if to go very far. The empty spontaneous road rises to a slope where he starts. Of course I knew him, I could tell him, and all …

THAT COOL GREEN STRIP That cold green strip, which was the morning had nothing in common with us. And the smoke from the chimneys, rising solemnly, straight up. In some god who loved, these vertical movements. And the crunch under your feet! Oh this indescribable crunch: no one can get not heard, that was for sure. And the suspicion that …

LIFE Life flows through my time, and I, an unshaven face, where wrinkles are deep, I analyze the traces. Thoughts like cattle, advancing on the road to drink, lost summers back, one by one, deep as the sky is the melancholy, the sedge plant that was, and then the clouds rolled over white, yet I know that everything is the …