Thorns again

JB

 

Thorns again dress in white
in the evening, spreading sweetness
and life’s hope from nectar glands.
Winter stasis is over

Thorns dress sadness and white
in this evening of a dying world.
Life is smoke now, without
barycenter in which there’s hope

Thorns are naked and white
in the evening, wasting sweetness
given to dark that is coming soon.
I’m like question in a desert land

 

March, 14th 2019

 

Italian version

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Lie, fake leaves

I hope I’ll tomorrow can share here a photo of mines!
I Just did it, and today is March, 31st 2019. Lol.

 

Any elm dresses lie that’s fake leaves
under an early sun that warms up
changes which we still can’t understand
in their whole and enormous huge power

Lent is only like a vague trouble,
inconvenience to me, as a room
desolate in which I look for door.
I need You if I escape from You

 

March, 28th 2019

 

Italian version

Another birthday

Photo by JB, 2014

 

Here we are again: a year more
fell due silently amid empty memories
that don’t give substance to this my present.
What is left of all travelled time?

Plum trees and buds wake up again, now
while I see new green in fields and woods.
Dry and dusty ground supports my steps
I think Easter is a far mirage

 

March, 17th 2019

Italian version

Garrigue

Photo by JB, 2018

 

Grass and shrubs here devour all the light
and become lust for life and for colours
while distil fragrance into the air:
helichrysum and dreamy remembers

Buds swell fast among the sharp thorns
ripping each winter’s hard and brown scales
yellow colours spread right all around
and the heather’s flesh is purple blood
 

Oak trees show hard and prickly, strange leaves
dark and small; they are head bent so close
to the ground. Valerian lights up as it’s a red
flame and rough bindweed is slithering down
 

In the clear afternoon a strange calm
envelops me; I look at myself
into limestones corroded by years.
We were sounds and too colors. Thus once

 

St.Guilhem le Desert, April, 4th 2018

Italian version

Helichrysum smell

Photo by JB, 2018

I was twenty, oh God! Is it possible?
And I ran light across the Alps mountains
yet today a stone challenges my pride
and my feet and my mind shudder both

In the air Helichrysum and my
memories mix with rue that I sense
without see. I seek you there, below
I call you and I’m back: you are my wish

On the hill, in the scrub that wraps up
this limestone rock I go chasing times
by now lost, far away, looking for
resting boys at sunset, singing happy

Cobblestone white and flat make a path
as wide as the life history of saints[1]
who went through this Désert[2].
At the end of the world[3] we revive

Château du Verdun, April, 4th 2018

[1] Above all St. Guilhem  (William), grandson of Charles Martel, famous Christian knight and cousin of the emperor Charlemagne. He is the hero of the Chanson de Guillaume.

[2] The Château du Verdun, or Giant Castle, is located near Saint-Guilhem-le-Désert.

[3] The very impressive Cirque de l’Infernet, known as located “au bout du monde“.

Italian version

Empty mind

Pic by JB, 2018

 

Empty mind with no thoughts
doesn’t know what I am
lost in silly streams made
by mist, details and fog
 

Snow came, snow soon has gone
so the ground is back brown
mix of mud and fresh hopes
of sense and better days
 

A life’s breath splits the clouds
that invade all the things’
and thoughts’ space
 

In the winter’s cold March
can grow up

 
Italian version
March, 4th 2018