A Wind-Beaten Tree, by Vincent van Gogh (pic found here)
A fresh wind now arises from there, far from me, far from my usual home It tells me about days fully blue far from these suffocating warm times
A cold breeze drags the leaves on those trees reaching me on my tired sad face while I seat on my stony terrace watching at long gone days of young girls
A sweet breeze sweeps my mind and my soul overcoming my thin older skin: a pale box I fill with evil, sins. They make me defile our plain love
A fresh wind comes from your other world it says about our love, about God I can see both us there, both us pure I can see both us new, happy and free
Sylvia Greenberg – ‘In Trutina’ and ‘Dulcissime’ from Orff’s ‘Carmina Burana’. Israel Philarmonic Orchestra, Tel Aviv, 1994, Dir. Zubin Metha.
Last days are very weird ones for me; maybe it’s so cause I’m writing a weird short novel about first time Eve made love. The stuff I post here is something embarassing for me, but I wrote it in English, a language I do not understand very well.
;P
Oh! I’m back!
Thanks to my so cute friend River Moonstone for some of these words.
Thanks to my Love to bear me.
Dulcissime Totam tibi subdo me
(Sweetest Love, I submit all myself to you)
Hidden under my black secret hair there’s a Pink Calla Lily: it’s my flower for you, it’s my gift, charming flower that no else can see
Sweetest Love, I submit all me to you
Be slow, gentle. Be slow, foremost take your time to explore. take your time… poke around, fumble me everywhere
For a while, my breath shall be the only sound and movement: that’s all and you, Love, you shall be just my breath, in my breath
Sweetest Love, I give my all to you
Touch each inch of my skin. I’ll get crazy, I’ll be as a great spasm all my body will be as a cry Tingling and shivering
We will merge our souls as well as our fleshes together, to one and to universe too: to each thing. Put your lips everywhere on my skin
Sweetest Love, I am slave of your wish
So I’ll be my own skin soft and warm: you can gently bite me where you want: even there while my mind starts to spin
Thus, my room will explode and in it you and me, body and soul and souls through our skin. See the night changing into sunlight
Sweetest Love, own me now
Hidden under my black secret hair there’s a Pink Calla Lily: get it now as my gift free me into wild cry
A short holiday makes little lighter all the cares that give me many troubles This old town gives itself to us and owns us like it did when we got married
Crazy game all swifts play fast and freely while I watch them black under the sky over Siena. As it’s usual I envy them when my eyes and mind scroll across deep blue
Please, don’t let our memory wane and our passion turn to old regret: It’s my love odd and needs skin and flesh, to be concrete and not abstract trend
I feel softness and urge takes my chest, need to see your skin and to touch you without fabric in between; dismay into your gloomy eyes could calm down
I still crave love from you and your flesh even modest I want lead to tense up to a powerful shiver; your hands come onto me, to frisk me everywhere
I am yours. Without veils I await you, your lips cover through all the body I give you. You drive me to that spasm I yearn for, so maybe anguish breaks
My breast gives itself to you as well my mouth and my round navel and my narrow hole that makes female your wife. You fill sweetness with love
We came to our evening, yet I want you as when I gave myself to you first time and we were really one: body, soul, eyes and I was twenty
My first embrace was clumsy because inexpert, we discovered flesh. Our life then mutated its course. Bring me to God again: I love you
Give me peace, restore me again, more; I’m more wrinkled respect at that time but expert. Love gasp takes me indeed; You give me only each thing and we
Well: this is Wish 2, (very!) less serious than the previous one. It’s only a play, a joke. Is it?. Please, refer to the pic to fully understand its title. LOL.
I wish to be wish as a witch you can catch in a wood, near that birch which loves a hard, tall beech while we can see a bitch going fast to a beach
I’m emotions and skin, I’m an itch and my body wants twitch among your hands: bewitch me.
My flesh is like a glitch as an old broken kitsch. Take me, fill my deep niche: I want feel that sweet stitch.
Gorgeous girl as a fresh spring pure breeze near me dances and bounces so that I’m upset, I am puzzled, aroused as a morning ground waiting for rain
You are a sylph made with gentle sweet breath nature’s strength, pure essence yet a woman please embrace me, hug me as a cloud so I’ll be less dark and sad, heavy, bad
Wrap your skin around me, feel my one do protect my soul from nasty thoughts see how much I need sweet honey things, see how much I am only desire.
Then my reason gets control again and I feel myself silly, dumb, poor as if I hadn’t seen my soul safe. Thank you sweet gorgeous girl, anyway
When the night quickly comes like a ghost, a dark velvet or silence, old veil often bringing us pain memories … I wish to be your wish and desire
When the moon rises so large and white like a girl in love yet pure and chaste and we feel to be such a poor thing … I too wish to be wish and desire
When my purple spreads through all my neck and my cheeks and elsewhere too there where you want to touch my shy skin … I must be your wish and your desire
When the fog deletes trees and each thing in this world and we are like blind cats without home, with no sense and no hope … I want to be your wish and desire
When the death strikes so hard just near us stealing from us what we need so much and I shiver with fear and with cold … I need to be your wish and desire
January, 1st 2022
My dear friend Terry made this beautiful photo after she read my words:
As a window of spring, some Great tits came again near my home and now chirp whilst my time runs to solstice, when dark wins each day against light, more and more
As a window of spring your green eyes came again near my face and my lips met your mouth, in the dark, before that sleep won against my mind and my hands
We need windows of spring in the life where we run toward dark, pain and death. Green grass, trees, Tits and you are refrains in the song of my life made by God
(Thank you to my friend Terrygold for the last beautiful landscape she built in Second Life. This winter land remembers me a trip I did many years ago to a place in my Alps, Lago Nero – Black Lake. Soon I’ll post the sources of these words on my Italian Blog; they are very symple words that you can easily understand simply using the Google translator)
Frozen landscape tells me ice and snow, speaks to me of past times and old stories about young girls and boys just grown up where all my time was hereafter and further
White nice splendour of silence and peace it remembers me that day, now far, when I went to the black lake and its ice surface began to break in spring
Like the blood of red poppies among fields of wheat my days bloomed and brief is their time. Cover, snow, my old stuff! Because life is a so little thing
White cold peace in the countryside, here, when time stood still as did in that day. My mind is young again, even now my skin withers yet expects still love
The skin of the angels 