Pandemic into

Pandemic, a cooperative board game.

My dear friend Kristine said me that in past time theatres closed during Lent because people thought that purple colour bring bad luck …

Each thing goes mad and a new disease,
faceless, rapes and outrages our minds
weak and poor and without anchorage.
Humans expel God from world then weep

Tonight rest ruins itself into grief;
soon new day will become dark for mists
and meantime full of empty silences.
Purple Lent closes world’s theatre now

 

February, 27th 2020

 

Italian version

Winter variations

JB, 2009

 

Frozen countryside looks at me now
while I go and see background fog where
trees and houses drown down near the ground,
where a church and a tower float up

Frozen countryside waits for me so
that I go today too; background clumps
itself between ice fields under fog:
There I see tower, church and belfry

Frozen countryside stretches now here
pale footsteps between ditches and background
weakened by soft fog breaths in the wind.
I see churches and silence; a tower

Countryside now is frozen. I stretch
usual path and is background your face
beyond pale grey mist streams.
My flesh misses your sweet and warm love

Countryside is my frost field which, tired,
into each day path today is limping.
This fog enters me and it’s as background
a far Church. And I struggle

 

February, 3rd 2020

 

Italian version

Narrow crosses

JB, that night

 

Ancient square grey stones tell us dark stories
about power and passions and fights.
The austere building, that stole popes from Rome
at that time, seems invincible, immense

Narrow crosses draw black and strange carvings
from where I imagine shooting arrows
down to square and those people, to tourists,
that are pale shadows of splendid people

Where the hell did those strong people go,
they who raised you with each cathedral,
which was Europe salvation that time?
Solitude freezes now all my bones

 

Palais des Papes, Avignon,
April, 22nd 2019

Italian version

You can find here more informations about this holiday.

This stone highland

JB, 2019

 

This stone highland that boxwood shrubs dress
thickly with small hard leaves as a robe
climbs down steeply to the river ghost
where a ravine become wider meander

White rock deforms in concentric spasms,
isoipses that marks so a cadence
of warm climate and parched hardground
towards the ancient mill, at the source

That fresh water like faith and like hope
caused motion of people: thus wheat
became flour and then became bread
for miles all around here. It was life.

I go down and climb back in the circus.
I look at terebinth and lentisk
building alien landscape that refers
to the sea: it’s true factor yet absent presence

Each thing changes, so houses and churches
were destroyed and turn now to vain tourism,
empty goals only for pleasant holiday.
Oh my Christ, return clear and alive

 

Cirque de Navacelles,

April, 24th

 

You can find here more informations about this holiday.

 

Italian version

 

Dead saint stones

JB, 2019

Dead saint stones. They were strong,
full of fervour and passionate faith,
now they stand again orderly and giant
witnesses of Church that lived before

Sleeping saint stones, now are as pale hearts
with no sense and distorted, reduced
simply to business chance or to a cue
for romantic dreams of old past artist

We are poor bad stones nightly when this
so rapacious world comes and grabs us
to confuse our mind turning it
into hip depraved conformism

We were Easter light stones in the past,
but as that rock stones we were sold to
the World Prince. Make us life again, Lord
that guide our way and the history

 

Abbaye de Fontfroide,

April, 23rd 2019

 

You can find here more informations about this holiday.

Italian version

There!

Photo by me: it was an almost rainy day; in the web we can see beautiful pic of this Abbey; the ones with lavender flowers are very spectacular, like this one:

(pic found there)

 

There! In this quiet valley a blossom
appears, sudden volute of stone
almost shy indeed strong and discreet,
so impressive, clean substance

It’s inside time and world, but outside,
severe dress of austere fullness and
limestone filled with faith and with quiet
silence marked with hardworking joy

Saints and martyrs and so troubled stories
that did no wipe out from this poor land
either flesh or its beautiful work.
Outside lavender waits for warm sun

Will we last? Maybe we will be alone
as short beating of wings, before instinct
of possession and claim takes all us?
God not make us as blasphemy or hitch

 

Abbaye Notre-Dame de Sénanque

April, 22nd 2019

You can find here more informations about this holiday.

Italian version