Precious love

 

My Precious love can only come from above
In unity is born a kiss of dignity
My Precious love will only come from above
And there you wish away
And with the least they met
You love better
Precious love
Precious love
Precious love
Precious love
Precious love
Precious love
Precious love
Precious love
Precious love
Precious love

Space weaver,
by Lisa Gerrard

My friend Kristine Blackadder told me about a strange song: Space weaver, by Lisa Gerrard. I listened to that song and saw its video. A woman dances, alone in an empty space; she wears a very large black dress. She keeps her hands near her hips and her arms are bent, so I can imagine two eyes, two gaps of light in the black of a mask. Her body is also bent, as to simulate a nose protruding from a mask.
A black mask.
The song flows and the woman dances until that mask seems to vanish and the woman becomes what she really is: a woman.
She becomes herself, without any mask and far from any dream.
An expression recurs obsessively, maybe as a prayer invocation, surely as expression of ineffable desire: Precious love. It is repeated twelve times.
Well… that’s my true love story.
Because my precious love came me from above.
Because when I met my precious love I found myself as unity.
Because my precious love gave and gives me dignity.
Because dignity and love grew and grow again as unity.
Because I saw and see what to love means.
Because I became me, taking off any mask.

I breathe words

 

I breathe words in the fresh wind that strikes
my face and messes up all my hairs
in the spring mornings when winter runs
far away and you are my desire

Words choose me and they give strength and form
to my wandering roaming strewn thoughts.
I don’t look for them: I find and see
them, they chase me at their whim

I collect from somewhere words in summer
going through mountains, into your eyes
full of peace, in the steps that so much
bring us toward the high sky we need

We have not to hunt words; just wait for
them that reach us across lives and time flow
and watch them changing into nice prayer
like clots filled and charged with meaning

I chase words and autumn rain turns
itself lighter becoming soft smile
as when evening mist poses on green grass
while I run to you asking for you

 

October, 14th 2019

 

Italian version

Sudden downpour

JB 2019, that day

 

Sudden downpour breaks clouds below us,
where Ayas Valley opens itself
widening its green far to the east
where Elina is kissed by wind

There I climbed for my so young years
among rock ruins, boulders and screes
to find myself, beyond any path
footed by crowd, beyond summer rules

I was looking for huge solitudes
on the peak where I placed a cross.
Then I missed you, soon, so nostalgia
made me run back to your tight hugs

Here we are, quite in front of that mountain
in the clear sky above the dark rain.
We are in peace and enjoy this last day
of vacation. Our gaze goes on far

 

Zerbion Mount,

August, 30th 2019

 

Italian version

All that heat

I look at all that heat from cool shade,
from a cave among green and old ivy.
Outside hot spell insists with cicada
in the merciless, summer day light

In your shadow I live, you are a fresh
shelter from anxiety that takes me
when I work or I go on black roads,
when I see people’s empty pale faces

Last solstice skimmed short time ago
and it’s victory of living on darkness.
I almost forget the time end
even if it comes down: I feel peace

We are in the shadow of a so strong Hand
which governs everything in best way
We are shipwrecked spread in this world
yet we are not alone. We are there
                                                      and there is here a Sense

 

June, 28th 2019

 

Italian version

 

…………………………..AND NOW…. HOLIDAY!!!!!

Peace and crickets

This movie is by Francesca Bonfatti

 

Peace and crickets knead themselves at evening
with leftover heat wave of this day.
I release my mind free: it finds sweetly
you and thinks about you everywhere

You gave me your caresses tonight
I caught you full of passion and quiver
like a tender surrender and gift
to that love that still takes us so tight

Evening star shins up there looking at
me from a deep dark sharp blue clear sky
into the summer night. It is fullness
of memories, that are now too much,
                                                             and it’s hope

 

Italian version

 

A strong wind

JB, that day

 

A strong wind tears white foam off from water
that swells as an old giant’s loud scream.
All hangs into a dark leaden sky,
density of each spirit is free

A wild wind sweeps my face, so my anger
moves away compared with the immense
swirling of forces greater than those
of each minute whims which I can do

Wind. I stand up with effort and upright
turning my chest against booming sea.
I feel all this my body alive
then a smile looks for you and I’m safe

 

Villeneuve-lès-Maguelone,

April, 25th 2019

Italian version

You can find here more informations about this holiday.

I see us, I see you

JB, that night

 

I see us on that sofa, it’s night
we’ve a rest looking at our future
that awaits us and is full of sense.
Next September we’ll get married, so

You are on that sofa: it’s a moment
overlaid both to time and to space:
your background is the same yet it’s different.
Next September you’ll get married, so

Our link was young but sure and certain,
more than only beginning, prelude,
it was real and eternal fact
we so thought and so lived our love

So you are today, you, my son and
her, that’s new but real part of the whole
which we live and not only unclear hope.
God can hold your hand. You go on!

 

Bernina Hospice, February, 16th 2019

 

Italian version