La mia gola
è stretta
in una morsa,
che spegne
la mia voce
e uccide
le mie parole.
Le mie mani
restano immobili,
con la matita
intrappolata
tra le mie dita,
incapace di sfiorare
la carta,
mentre
muoiono i miei sogni.
Poem (C): Me
“Orpheus and Eurydice” (C): George Frederic Watts
My throat
is caught
in a vice,
that turns off
my voice
and kills
my words.
My hands
remain motionless,
with the pencil
trapped
between my fingers,
unable to touch
the paper,
while
my dreams die.
Poem (C): Me
“Orpheus and Eurydice” (C): George Frederic Watts
Beyond
the Golden Gate Bridge
a light went out
in San Francisco.
A voice
has stopped
resounding in the streets,
and singing
the stories
of the children of ecstasy
and freedom.
A pen
stopped writing
the thousand faces
of man,
leaving only
silence.
Poem (C): Me
All the rights of the images belong to their respective owners
RIP Lawrence Ferlinghetti
Oltre
il Golden Gate Bridge
una luce si è spenta
a San Francisco.
Una voce
ha smesso di
risuonare nelle strade,
e di cantare
le storie
dei figli dell’estasi
e della libertà.
Una penna
ha smesso di scrivere
le mille facce
dell’uomo,
lasciando soltanto
il silenzio.
Poem (C): Me
All the rights of the images belong to their respective owners.
RIP Lawrence Ferlinghetti
Confetti
Flies in the air,
among the laughter of
masked people.
The cold wind
of February
softly
blows
on the corpse
of King Carnival,
and while
the others cheerfully
celebrate
there are those who cry bitter tears
for the lost time.
The smoke of the stake,
rises to the sky
where the joys
of this moment
burn in the flames
and the ashes
falls to...
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Volano
I coriandoli nell’aria,
tra le risa della
gente mascherata.
Soffia dolcemente
il gelido vento
di Febbraio
sul cadavere
di Re Carnevale,
e mentre
gli altri festeggiano
allegramente
c’è chi piange lacrime amare
per il tempo perduto.
Sale al cielo
il fumo del rogo,
dove le gioie
di questo momento
bruciano tra le fiamme
e la cenere
cade sulla terra,
come un seme
durante la...
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The burned wings
tenderly cover
his shoulders,
his gaze searches the unknown,
with the green eye
burning wildly
and the blue eye
freezing everything.
Behind him
hysterical laughter
and crazy howls
is heard,
for those who fell
into madness,
wrapped
in his demonic shadow.
Poem (C): Me
“Fallen Angel” (C): Alexandre Cabanel
“Death of Orpheus” (C): Emile Levy
This poems is dedicated to my original...
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