This life


Photo by JB, 2009

This life gave me your eyes so clear, light
during my winter days, a concretion
of cold, sadness and silence
that you win, that you suddenly won when we met us

Yes, the life gave me your lovely eyes
full of beauty like the linden smile
when it scatters its scent and the sweetness
in the warm ride to the next solstice

The life gave me as present your eyes
and your lips and your hands and your skin
that I touch and a shiver moves me
while my soul moans and quivers and ripples

This life gave me your eyes, nowadays
tired yet again stretched forward
beyond me and the world, to the horizon
of each gesture so thrown even further


June, 19th 2017

You introduce me

You introduce me to the sun today
when the summer is falling into autumn
and the night wins again on the day
and my face grows old while I watch you

You reflect the sun also today.
The equinox just went down and the mist
demurely dresses brown dry old twigs
that already sleep dreaming for leaves

You were sun and it was autumn day
in the strange old age owned by Rome;
we were young and my being across
the time was quite without any reason

You direct my gaze towards the sun
even if the time hurts also you
and my anger denies all the light.
In your eyes I see marks of splendour

September, 23rd 2016

Italian version

Lighter air


Photo by J.B., 2016



The air is lighter and invades me so deeply
into my chest and into my mind
to enrapture my grey perverse soul
beyond me and this weighty world's weird

The air is lighter and tempts me and my body
so I climb quickly to find my peace place.
In the refuge I mix and confuse
dreams and memories and silence
                                and silence


Mezzalama Shelter, August, 19th 2016


Thank you to my sister LedaEuropa for her suggestions!

Italian version

Straw tones


J.B, 2016


My big evil grows hard alike maize
suddenly and so fills all my field
during the dry and warm summer times.
All my grass raves about damp soft soil

Ghosts of flowers and desert white lights,
empty ambitions of upset dreams, chords,
leave as sediment blankets of sleep.
Every day now turns into straw tones


June, 22th 2016


Italian version

Cicada two






The deafening cicada noise booms
the heat that I avoid going into
the exedra, under wisteria shadows.
The life that I escape dries me

Paranoia I see into myself:
I shun any chance to not be lost.
In the air scorched powder dries up
anywhere becomes torrid in the world


July, 1st 2015




That day, after almost seven hours, in my car, back to home


go here for the Italian verson