Dawn is coming

Photo by JB, 2018

 

Dawn is coming, colouring pale rocks
on the Sfulmini as does on each mountain.
Up there glaciers are shining deep blue
and my mind is kidnapped away
 

I gaze at any peaks standing up
above soft cotton made by white clouds
I curl up in the cold sunrise light,
that’s all. I kneel and stammer prayers

 

Refuge Alimonta,
August, 9th 2018

 

Italian version

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Spectres of bones

Photo by JB, 2018

 

There are standing in silence tonight
spectres of bones blackened by shadow
that returns regardless of the scream
of those who long for light and for blue
 

Your stars up there are piercing the nothing
where’s a gash into clouds that connects
mountain’s rock and sky showing a path.
I sit out of the world on the stones

 

Refuge Alimonta,
August, 8th 2018

 

Italian version

Save me, please

Photo by JB, 2018

 

I can hardly climb up on this ice
while I limp to win any balance;
I hear showers and I see the stones
roll about among splashes of white

 

So thick, sneaky fog envelops me
and a thought about you, down below
God, it’s slippery! Accept each my step
in your hands. Save me, please

 

Vedretta dei Sfulmini,
August, 8th 2018

 

Versione italiana

If I can

Photo by JB, 2018

 

Some anemones still bloom within
their companions that dry any fruit
fitting so life and hope to this season
that decrees defeat and silence too

Also larch trees cry yellow leaves now
among leftovers of tired grass
aimed at signs of next winter start.
Maybe I too can bloom, if I can

 

Toward Col Portola, August, 24th 2018

 

Italian version

Blue light

Photo by J.B., 2018

 

Blue light, she is reflected by water:
dragonfly turns around and the pool
is her whole universe so contracted.
She doesn’t know about Dolomites, there

I too go around, trapped days
of the norm that dulls every sense,
where I lose both Your world and Your Beauty
and I waste all my life and its meaning

Malga Valchestria (Brenta Dolomites), August 4th, 2018

Italian version

Joy

Gentiana asclepiadea, picture from here

 

Common bent feebly blurs at the blow
of the breeze rising up from the valley.
Gentian’s perfect blue shows itself deeper
than the lake abyss and swallows up me
 

I see shades of the sky in the rock
where the cyanite peeps out among quartz.
We are two, we are alone and we are happy
in the peace of a day that is joy

 

Riale, Val Formazza, August, 5th 2017

Italian version