Wrong crossroads

Photo by J.B., 2018

This stuff can be considered my own version of some verses
red in a beautiful poem by Marina Raccanelli, where she writes in Italian

ora che il vento ci spinge
verso incroci sbagliati
sentieri senza biforcazioni

That is:

now when the wind drives us
toward wrong crossroads
paths without junctions

Marina shares her poem just when I am in a wrong crossroad, so her words move me so much …
Thank you Marina and forgive me that stole your words!

 

Silly wind of emotion led us
to the peace of impossible land
whilst we lost reason and real things
 

The same wind now drives us toward there,
to wrong crossroads, mad paths, where we don’t
see nor junctions nor truth nor ourselves
 

There, where our emotion is dead
as a bird hurled against the glass,
where the window is closing our dream
 

Here now only there’s silence and fog.

 

January, 29th 2018