ABOUT IT ... again ... Uuuuuh, scientist ariecco u! First of all sorry heart, my dear comrades! It's been more than two months since I last updated the blog. Some of you will say, I was so well these two months, now behold again this! It was in August when I wrote the last post and it was terribly hot, but now it seems to be in the storm ... oh well it happens, my friends! I was pleased to review all of you after the summer ... although I must say that the reading room of Via Salaria now has become a tea room. If at least there was already a healthy one would be something, but it seems the special department of the CIM. ... And oh well! In August, I realized that the blog had reached zero degree of communication, especially in the game to guess our dear guests! Which is why I decided to remove at least this category. Now this space will be devoted to poetry more firmly. We will see whether to continue the stories of my "Experiments sociological "or not. ... what will surely be heading the" distinguished guests "which for now includes only the name of Eugenio Montale.
But another reason, my crazy friends, kept me away from these pixels: I wondered what it's writing poetry. I see the world tinged with gray, adult life unfolding before me, the little everyday realities that savor every day: it's all very far from illusions, from the nobility of feelings, dreams. Everything is concrete, everything is quick, everything is a fact. There is no time for abstraction, reflection, the word. He still flirts with the charm of words? I do not think, my deluded friends.
But, despite everything, below you will find three of my thoughts. They belong to different times.
And then, finally, I decided to get back in front of my computer. This is thanks to you, my friends.
TOWARDS THE 'LOVE Sitting here on this sofa apart
is time to consider whether or not it seems.
I see everyone talking, laughing and joking
as I did with you until now.
I watch you smile and you move
seems that you belong to a world where sin and vulgarity
not exist.
suppose you have created the angels, and then you have
sent
next to me because I knew the feeling of flying. While
I look at the diversity, diversity
evident between past and present but it is even more between words and deeds.
Love, to me synonymous with adventure, a magical moment
to subtract from the time
but perhaps only now I know its meaning.
I look and I think the days to come,
your face will not be the memory of this evening,
and your bewitching scent is my air.
He looked up and meet your eyes, your smile
answer: I jumped up, I decided to try
finally true love.
THE DISAPPEARANCE OF THE MOON ANGEL Maybe it's because she's tired now
illuminate the sky every
night that you're not with me tonight.
It kills the dignity of man,
cancel the values \u200b\u200bof civilization and was at the top
remember the truth.
echo the cries of a woman,
that will give a child in pain but she was always there
inevitable.
Despite the decline of the spirit, she is still keeping the simplicity
and a well for the romantic image.
The desire for success and money are his main enemies
sometimes too strong to fight.
Even love has chosen the calculation,
solidarity is in exile from the world and
witnessing its demise.
I try to find his message
between the roofs of ruined this country,
nostalgia for a vanished history.
Surrounded by a garden, I think
lovers who hosted
and seem to see it more pure.
So is this old church, the cloister
of Doric columns,
and flowing fountain in the center.
shyness seems to listen,
of those who were here in the past
trying to read in the eyes of others.
I see you and I feel transhumanize,
the liberty of expressing my love,
while the heart is now on the lips.
And while I lose my sense of myself,
listening to the taste of your sweetness,
think that the moon has reappeared. For us.
A quarter of a century I almost
you made you a pink afternoon
childhood and I was wondering where you hid the wings.
skin and hands are almost orange peel,
few teeth and hair, but a huge heart
'll call you "grandma" even if you're an angel.
grew and I was wondering how long
the passing of the years would have allowed
still enjoy your company.
Remember the silent lunches after school,
gone to see your favorite
while Luke and I did not want to grow?
remember your care and your affection
always a hot meal ready for us, we promise to make you
angry.
Sometimes you shut the kitchen to eat, because you wanted to talk things
but it was nice when we dine with us.
I grew up the son of those moments
now, perhaps, we do not see much anymore
but only the heart is the guardian of true affection.
Often, grandmother, great utopia dream:
would not be nice if we lived on the other hand you back
and young, cheerful and lively?
we will become gradually smaller and
at the end of the show, the final farewell
you look again at the future with serenity.
