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

 

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It’s so light

Photo by JB, there, that night

 

It’s so light air on ice
where we move sudden, heavy,
as dark bodies. White is everywhere.
For two days I’ve no worries with me
 

Frost now creaks under us: every weight
becomes noise without answer
and this shadow that Moon draws grey down
is surprise on the virgin snow ground
 

Really priceless is silence or panting
taking my breath away in the cold.
All my world tonight is black and white
and discloses new mountains, new stars

 

Bernina Pass, February, 16th 2019

 

Italian version

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

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