POETRY

DAYS IN WHITE In these days, I get up with birches and on the forehead I restart interlock the strands of wheat, in front of a mirror of ice. Amalgamated to my breath, flakes milk: so early it has easy foam. And where the glass fogged with breath appears, painted by a child finger, yet your name: innocence! After a …

SOLITUDE LITTLE FEARS THE EMBRACEMENT The solitude fears little the embrace. I am explaining to two hungry blackbirds, behind the window with their beaks holed up in feathers, that loneliness is nothing more than hunger and that (at least for them) the embrace can mean the piece of bread. I have to convince them that Lent is still far away. …

NIKE You are like the Nike of Samothrace in Paris, oh sleepless love: also hurt, with the same fervor you tend arms mutilated, and you fly. (Maria Pazlikoswka)

NOTHING WILL COME MORE Nothing will come more. There will be no spring. Millennial almanacs, it predict at all. But even summer and other things bearing the beautiful summer attribute, nothing will come more. You must not cry, says music. No one else said anything. (Ingeborg Bachmann)

LAYER Love each time whitens the soul like a room. Overlaps the previous one on the other, sull’azzurrino away with tiny flowers, come the field poppies, then the light yellow with roses. And somewhere in a corner all peels off. Petals as you browse the layers of paint, and if I tried to scratch with a fingernail, would shine in …

I BELIEVE I believe in the good things and the good, I believe in friendship, I believe in love. In what is above reason, and whose origin in the world do not see, in what it has in its goal. I believe in the inspiration of the poet, I think in every heartbeat. In an eternal life and superior, in …

YO SOY TUYA Yo soy tuya como una de las dos flores de algodón y ella es también tuya y tú mereces saber que tú eres toda la planta las raíces, los pilares y las ramas mientras ella y yo nos mecemos en el aire y cada flor piensa y se inclina hacia el cielo. I AM YOURS I am …

GRLICE Nekje so me pokopali. Ne spominjam se več nobenega grma, nobene zvezde, ne morja in ne tišine. Med kládivi in kolesi, med bati in računali samo še ribe in grlice včasih še jočejo. Telo razgrebem, ogenj prižgem, da se ob njem ogrejejo njihove ranjene glave, njihove ranjene glave. GRLICE Somewhere I was buried. I do not remember no bush, …

He was born in Paris, inside an October day, becoming poet, novelist and member of the French Comunist Party. Dadaism and Surrealism inside the life of Louis Aragon. In 1939 he married Russian-born author Elsa Triolet, and she became his muse. During the second word war, he wrote for the underground press Les Éditions de Minuit, and was a member …

To learn about countries and nations, it is necessary to know their cultural latitudes. A perfectly proportioned man (created by Leonardo da Vinci), correlating the symmetry of human anatomy to the symmetry of the universe. What you see, hear, eat and feel, it’s all inside Meeting Benches way: the Vitruvian approach to life. WHEN WILL YOU COME? I send letters …