Friday, November 29, 2013

Viaggio

Si muore un po’ ogni volta
al solo pensiero di partire.
Non  guardarti indietro,
non scrutare il futuro,
tanto  non puoi cambiare
neppure l’esile soffio
di un pensiero nascosto,
con cura, nella tua mente.
Hai preparato l’estremo tuo
viaggio, versando l’amaro dolore
di ultime parole lasciate
su quel  foglio di carta,
in bella vista al mondo.
Ma neppure questo
potrà darti sollievo.
Tu sai che il mondo
neppure si accorge
e  presto dimentica
anche l’accorato addio
d’ogni umana partenza .
Cielo o cielo, a noi tutti
è destinata questa sorte!
Come poter sfuggire,
in che luogo nascondersi?
Nessuno può scappare.
Ovunque sia, mi raggiungerà
il comune destino trascinando
con me nel nulla,
il mio dolore?
E’ pronto il viaggio.....




NB: Sincere regraziamente a
Davide.


Tuesday, November 19, 2013

Il cielo....


L'immensità del cielo
non si arriva a comprendere.
Si arrabbia dei maltrattamenti
aprendosi e fa piangere quelli
che non gli portano rispetto.
Il cielo ti abbaia con il suo
limpido azzurro e ti uccide
con i suoi pianti torrenziali senza fine.
Noi umani siamo incredule
e cosi non e colpo del cielo
se questo s'infuria e ci dice
"basta con le vostre idiozie"....

Sunday, November 10, 2013

In Flanders Field....

In Flanders fields the poppies blow
between the crosses
row on row
That mark our place; and in the sky
the larks, still bravely singing, fly
scarce heard amid the guns below.

We are the Dead.
Short days ago,
we lived, felt down, saw sunset glow.
Loved and were loved
and now we lie in Flanders field.

Take up our quarrel, with the foe
to your from failing hands we throw
the torch, be yours to hold it high
if we break faith with us who die
we shall not sleep, though poppies grow
in Flander fields.

John McCrae
1872-1918

Un poeta canadese che scrisse
questo poema ricordandosi dei suoi amici
di battaglia morti in un campo di pappaveri
che steva per fiorire. 

John McCrae
1872-1918
 mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.
We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders fields.
Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.
- See more at: http://www.ottawalife.com/2012/11/in-flanders-fields/#sthash.VKC5lvPX.dpuf
In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.
We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders fields.
Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.
- See more at: http://www.ottawalife.com/2012/11/in-flanders-fields/#sthash.VKC5lvPX.dpuf
In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.
We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders fields.
Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.
- See more at: http://www.ottawalife.com/2012/11/in-flanders-fields/#sthash.VKC5lvPX.dpuf
In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.
We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders fields.
Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.
- See more at: http://www.ottawalife.com/2012/11/in-flanders-fields/#sthash.VKC5lvPX.dpuf
In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.
We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders fields.
Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.
- See more at: http://www.ottawalife.com/2012/11/in-flanders-fields/#sthash.VKC5lvPX.dpuf
In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.
We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders fields.
Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.
- See more at: http://www.ottawalife.com/2012/11/in-flanders-fields/#sthash.VKC5lvPX.dpuf

Sunday, November 3, 2013

Loneliness - Solitudine



La Solitudine e un pericolo per la tua anima.
Non farti abbattere ma abbi tanta speranza,
la vita e corta ma con la solitudine
diventa un inferno.....