ABOUT ME WHERE I LIVE CONTACT SKIN

Prose

» Romanesque
» In a wild state
» Catherine Wheel
» Seven Sages
» Recreation
» Mandala
» Wandering riders
» Sabba

Poetry

» Beyond curtain
» A love poison
» Plautinus
» Blind world
» Plancton
» Jack O'Lantern
» Giotto's pastels
» Mab
» Preludes to Lutin

versione italiana
english version




« »

Itís not you to destroy nature
capable to adapt to any aberration.
After the desecration is it to a destroy you.
When the singer passes
like an old priest on the climb
waiting for his last days
close quickly the doors
since death is on his side.
Donít believe itís the wind
to move the bells.
Close the door to the singer.
Two-faced january watches the last year
hoping the new will be better
and banquets with wine jug
It cut firewood with the axe
here, the flame flares up.
February gets ready the tools
for the trades of march
that prunes and fixes the vines.
April announces the resurrection
and May triggers the wars
because men need them
to trample swift the land.
June harvests highest ears
so that feed in plenty.
Helps it to finish activities
july without a hand, with broken scythe
but a large packed bag
and august collects the fruits
striking the circles of the barrels
that september will fill up of grape juice.
Bearded october seeds tired
november lowered and splendid
acts as gatherer of turnips
till december that slaughters the pig.
Then begins again the turn of the wheel
under an unknown firmament
still to explore endless.