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

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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

 

There!

Photo by me: it was an almost rainy day; in the web we can see beautiful pic of this Abbey; the ones with lavender flowers are very spectacular, like this one:

(pic found there)

 

There! In this quiet valley a blossom
appears, sudden volute of stone
almost shy indeed strong and discreet,
so impressive, clean substance

It’s inside time and world, but outside,
severe dress of austere fullness and
limestone filled with faith and with quiet
silence marked with hardworking joy

Saints and martyrs and so troubled stories
that did no wipe out from this poor land
either flesh or its beautiful work.
Outside lavender waits for warm sun

Will we last? Maybe we will be alone
as short beating of wings, before instinct
of possession and claim takes all us?
God not make us as blasphemy or hitch

 

Abbaye Notre-Dame de Sénanque

April, 22nd 2019

You can find here more informations about this holiday.

Italian version

Twilight

JB, that evening

 

I look at you so far from this loggia
while lights and colours turn on from windows
beyond the well of night that’s that lake.
A nightfall grips by fear now my world

You are there, in your houses, as usual
common business, and duties and laughs;
someone now prepares dinner or goes back
from his work and he’s welcome again

Yet now there are so powerful shadows
spread all over the world to bring terror
dark like black breath of worse ancient demons.
Make me one of your servants, God, Lord

January, 28th 2019

Italian version

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

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

Todo cambia

 

This scirocco breaks forests, breaks trees:
it is wrong and my world is wrong too,
black and soaked with so mad bad feelings
everywhere saturated by evil
 

After storm, after days that were storm
now I write. Sense of fulness and peace
covers me. I dissolve my fatigue
while light breeze dispels smoke
 

A far woman sang that “Todo cambia“:
each thing changes and me and my world
and the wind and the clouds … yes: all changes
Stay with me, do not leave me, God come!

October, 31st 2018

 

Thank you Kristine: now I know this beautiful song and enjoy it.

 

Italian version