November 26, 2024 8:00 pm

Meeting Bench

TWO EYES – Poetry, by Dario Pasero

DUE OCCHI > Due occhi mi guardano nel profondo, mi hanno fatto sanguinare il cuore. Due labbra rosse mi hanno detto dolcemente un segreto, che so solo io. Un solco del tuo profumo nell’aria chiara, mi ha sussurrato piano. Mai più. TWO EYES > Two eyes look at me deeply, made me bleed my heart. Two red lips told me …

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WHEN THE MUSIC BECOMES POETRY – Seabear: Hands Remember

HANDS REMEMBER Do you remember what things looked like when you were young? The voice of an old friend,or the notes to your first song, it’s been a while now, since you asked me to be your cat, your dog, your owl or bumblebee. Lately I’ve been feeling, like the days gonna come, you’ll walk up to me, and erase …

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WHEN THE MUSIC BECOMES POETRY – Woodkid: I Love You

I LOVE YOU Where the light shivers offshore, through the tides of oceans, are shining in the rising sun, as we are floating in the blue, I am softly watching you. Oh boy your eyes betray what burns inside you. Whatever I feel for you, you only seem to care about you. Is there any chance you could see me …

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WHEN THE MUSIC BECOMES POETRY – Dido: Here with Me

HERE WITH ME I didn’t hear you leave, I wonder how am I still here and I don’t want to move a thing, it might change my memory. Oh I am what I am, I’ll do what I want, but I can’t hide, I won’t go, I won’t sleep, I can’t breathe until you’re resting here with me. I don’t …

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THE LOVE STORY THAT WAS IMMORTALIZED BY DANTE – Paolo and Francesca, waiting for you at the Gradara’s Castle (Central Italy)

http://www.bestsmalltownsitaly.com/town/gradara-the-marches-center/ Legend, has it that the castle was the scene of the famous and tragic love story of Paolo and Francesca, caught in each other’s arms and killed by Gianciotto (Francesca’s husband). This love story was immortalized by Dante in his Divine Comedy. Situated at 142 metres above sea level, with the Republic of San Marino, Rimini and Carpegna in …

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MALADROIT – Poetry, by Jordi Cornudella

MALAPTESA > Jo no sabia què fer del meu cos, els braços que semblaven mig cenyir-te però no les mans – i tu em vas ajudar. Salvant a l’aire el gest vas acollir-lo. Vas salvar el gest, i més: al seu redós de sobte el que era pla va ensenyar uns nous corrents més àgils dins l’aigua quieta. De sobte …

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END OF THE PARTY – Poetry, byJaume Subirana

FINAL DE FESTA > Vénen cada matí les formes i la llum i cada nit vénen més formes i la fosca, i tot fuig en la nit i fuig tot en ple dia amb la proclama silenciosa que l’excés dels mesos, les setmanes i l’abans i l’ara ens ha estat atorgat, mercè d’un rei magnànim i terrible. Que tot ens …

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WHEN THE MUSIC BECOMES POETRY – A firefly in August, by Gianmaria Testa

UNA LUCCIOLA D’AGOSTO > Una lucciola d’agosto, se ne andava una mattina, fiera della sua valigia, a raccogliere la luna. E gridava ai quattro venti, la sua gioia d’esser viva, lo gridava ai quattro venti, e la sua luce lampeggiava. Ma la lucciola d’agosto, vide il sole che nasceva, solo, dietro le montagne. Vide il sole che brillava, disse al …

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WHEN THE MUSIC BECOMES POETRY – Chalk dust, by Gianmaria Testa

POLVERE DI GESSO > Io ogni mattina ascolto l’alba, e la sera il tramonto, e tutto il rumore che fa. E poi, per ogni giorno che passa, faccio un segno su un muro di questa città, perché non è il tempo che mi manca, e nemmeno l’età. Io ogni mattina quando parto, lascio aperta la mia porta, se qualcuno verrà, …

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WHEN THE MUSIC BECOMES POETRY – Inside the pocket of any morning, by Gianmaria Testa

DENTRO LA TASCA DI UN QUALUNQUE MATTINO > Dentro la tasca di un qualunque mattino, dentro la tasca ti porterei nel fazzoletto di cotone e profumo, nel fazzoletto ti nasconderei. Dentro la tasca di un qualunque mattino, dentro la tasca ti nasconderei, e con la mano, che non vede nessuno, e con la mano ti accarezzerei. Salirà il sole del …

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