The photography

 

From those papers your face
and no lost souvenirs of a time
when a sense held up everything
and you were both a shelter and aid
 

Where are you looking at?
Is your day near or far?
Your eyes are focusing beyond us
staring at the last threshold of your
world that you, that’s for sure, there you saw
 

Years have passed but the absence does not.
You come back in the nights, in my dreams
and we talk and it’s usual.
Then I wake up, I see me, I miss you
 

 

March, 21st 2017

Italian version

Father

Spring has came as it uses, no matter
father if you are dying here we leaving.
Father of our lives, Lord I’m praying
for his courage and for our own

Father, Lord, my knees blend to the truth
make me real like your breath which can’t see
build me finally free of myself
make me alive as my dad as you want

Monday, 19 March 2012