Where does lead … ?

J.B. 2018


Where does lead my road this so grey morning?
Into fog that wraps heavily all things
frosty grass, rimy stubbles and dark
trees that seem only scattered skeletons

Where does lead my road also today?
Towards gates of a new confused day
that together throws deadlines and blackmails
some small things to do before night come

Where do lead again roads anyway?
Into a world I no more understand
where perhaps hope goes bad ...
I know that there is sun above here
                           give me it


December, 18th 2018

Italian version

Dawn and sunset


Photo by JB, 2016


Maybe dawn can resolve any sunset,
vain world travel towards the main night
who wins us every day anyway,
like the nothing that dries up each thing

“Never” as well as “always” is not
nested word into mankind assets.
Someone else can define the absolute
and He lives it without a beginning

You elect me, my free jump provoking
as can water do running towards
fields that drink and give us their green life.
So I am if I belong to You

Beyond any idea, craving, wish
about what I believe and I can
You make me something possible, life.
Yes, You’re dawn that resolve sunset, night


Rimini, April, 20th 2018


Italian version


pic by JB, 2018


Vivid red earth here burns and her blood
raises as violent cry to sky,
as a flame that begs for existence.
Ochres are a magnificent spasm

They shine as does the light in the deep
upset when a day starts, like life does
in the dark depths of woods
when they rise from the winter frost time

We were primitive, we were naïve,
like beasts innocent starved of senses.
With the hands and the earth here’s a dough
made by amazed, just early beauty

As this earth I beg You; my fragile
female flesh yearns for You. You graft me,
for You can, in the space of my way
while I ask never filled true matters


Roussillon, Le Sentier des Ocres,

April, 2nd 2018

Italian version




(a joke with Melissa)


That morning I entered the chat and saw Melissa, never seen before nor after.
I was alone in my home, waked up a little before.
She said me something using this word: “cozy”, so i learned it. I also liked this new word.



Velvet dark is the night
like soft sheet, cozy bed
in which dreams can go on

Cozy thoughts come to me
while the sunshine begins
touching warm sheets you left

Outside here
fog and frost win the day.
Come back here cozy Love

I need your skin and lips


SL, Corchalo, December, 12th 2016

Falcons twirling


Photo by J.B., 2009


My thoughts are alike games of two falcons
twirling and pirouetting delighted
in the fresh morning air when the sunshine
absolves me from my recursive mists

The dew covers the low simple lives:
within the grass there is silver now.
I look at naked, dark, silent trees,
intertwined black hopes of the leaves


Italian version

Each down is


Photo found here

Everything is born dead as a recycling
of old and past impulses and rhythms
which swell and fade away, of the waves
that in a bigger one rest and then hide

Each dawn is a beginning that falls
in the night and each night rises from
a solstice to a solstice and goes on
celebrating provisional ages

Above I have a dark eddy of cold
and there a far infinite horizon
where the sea dissolves all the black sky
in the absolute mystery of waves

Inside I have a heart that beats questions
and reflections of the presences
which make me, while they change assonances
of the pure characters that I mix

You see only a woman, but I many
inside me. I’m a wave made by waves,
heteronyms that I create and paint
in a cycle that I see and don’t lie

Everything dies then born otherwise
such as flashes of light in the dawn
made by different colours, by charm,
made by hopes and strains. Made by looks


June, 23rd 2015


Italian version here

Smoking water

Fontanile d'inverno

As a sword a light’s blade breaks my dark
dreams today,
when I open my eyes
after days full of gray rain and pain.
Now a day is to live. To live now

Smoking water awake slowly runs
in the springs between alders and thoughts.
Far the Alps, ice white, shine like a cry.
I am here now to live. To live here

Pretty sunshine undoes any mist
with its winter breath yellow and smooth.
Green grass lights and the sky turns back blue
I am here to live life. fully live

February, 7th 2014

(for a bad translation into Italian, see here)

The waves: Judy and Virginia – Le onde: Judy e Virginia

(Virginia Woolf, “The waves” author)

Woman saw woman in the sunrise
in the rise of the light at the morning
Woman saw in the sea the wave widens
and deep into herself all the waves mixed

I feel me inside her, I feel strongly
her inside me and find myself into
every face of her character painted
and in her sun, her sea and her waves …

A lot of second lives I go across
I am everyone and both none.
I cling to the usual thing, I don’t look
at my destiny while my time runs

Behind all my words I hide myself
showing me
only to my love or to far fellows.
Many people compressed I am.

When I safe and undressed I lie
in the night and to a maiden I fit
what I feel, who I am, what I wish,
then I see my soul nude as well me

I enjoy the pale winter sun warmth:
on the wall my limbs cramped I spread
whilst my soul is vibrating and checks
of each mask its reflections and waves

Everyone I would be at the same time,
all those which my skin usual surrounds;
I would take beauty from each my mask
as a crystal reveal me and enjoy

The shore brokes any rush
while the light faints into the time.
Jinny grows old, perhaps
Luis is mourning that kiss in the edge.
Rhoda dies; never close any phrases
Bernard, Neville stops
all his words.
Susan tired looks at her old hands.

What has been is befallen, still stays
only a question: why so much?

Thursday, 7th february 2013

Vide donna romantica donna
nella luce del sole dell’alba.
Vide l’onda nel mare allargarsi
e in sé le onde di tutti mischiarsi

Sono dentro lei, io forte sento
lei in me e mi scopro nei volti
delle facce che penna dipinse
e nel sole, nel mare e le onde …

Molte vite seconde attraverso:
sono tutte e nessuna. Mi stringo
nelle cose di sempre e non guardo
il destino nel tempo che corre.

Mi nascondo
in parole e mi mostro soltanto
nell’amore o a compagni distanti.
Sono tanti, in un corpo compressi.

Quando giaccio sicura mi spoglio
nella notte e a ragazza conformo
ciò che sento e che sono, che voglio
e me guardo.

Godo il caldo del sole d’inverno:
rattrappite le membra distendo
mentre l’anima accerta vibrando
d’ogni maschera le onde e riflessi

Vorrei essere tutti ad un tempo
quelli che la mia pelle circonda;
d’ogni maschera assumere il bello
e cristallo svelarmi e goderne

Frange scoglio del mare ogni slancio
mentre sviene la luce nel tempo.
Jinny invecchia, Luis forse rimpiange
nella siepe quel bacio.
Rhoda muore; non chiude le frasi
Bernard, Neville
dismette parole.
Susan stanca si guarda le mani.

Ciò che è stato è successo ed avanza
solo ancora domanda: a che tanto?

Le onde: Jinny – The waves: Jinny

(pic from: www.scrivere.info)

Scalza godo il frusciare dell’erba
sotto i piedi e mi addentro nel fresco
dell’alcova e del bosco, foresta
dove si alzano i sensi e ti attendo

Sono fiamma dell’alba: risveglio
desiderio col mondo; nell’ombra
della siepe te colsi nascosto,
poi quel bacio rubato e sgomento

Sono l’onda che l’onda trasmette
vibra il mare concentrico e denso.
Guardo attorno con gli occhi del corpo,
fiera e femmina: a un cenno ti arrendi

I go shoeless enjoying the grass rustling
and like enter the freshness of woods,
of my alcoves where I raise all my senses
while I stay waiting for your incoming

I’m the flame of the sunrise and wake up
both the world and the yearnigs; I remember
you in the edge shadows, hid and alone
I remember my kiss on your nape

I’m the wave that the waves propagates
all around the sea pulses concentric.
I look at you with my body’s eyes,
proud and female: to my signal you yield

Wednesday, 30th january 2013