About awakening. Tale

Woman, woman,

you stay

and bloom till you dry and fade away

on the bank

with moving shores

don’t you want

to weave from you hair

the awaiting – the call?

it sings to her the sea

in false parables…

woman, are whispering the waters

in a strange vow

( vagabond over their waves)

your awaiting will be a masterpiece

the woman caught in the game,

is weaving from her cut hair

the face of her dear Ulysses

the night

in collusion with the sea,

is filling the face with life

it is haunting the windows,

going round the house,

chasing the scarecrow from the garden

the fountain is boilling

the boat starts to sail alone

in the large

sounds of crossed noises

from the sea and sky

deviate

Ulysses, conquer them!

shouts the woman over the awaiting

and night

I don’t have anymore my hair to the waist,

but I know to transplant

snails and shells

on the florid threshold.

 

Happy face

In the middle of the feast

the song of the dreaded bird

was slandering

the virtue of the guests in the night

transient

through love and drunkenness

they were singing

come, you stranger, at the table

with virgins

and goblets of wine

sick of the law to drink

the power of arrogance

a lot we saw

on our ways…

dangers

freed from control

saved our hope

let’s share

the time of the past

like brothers

and I urge you

to reward the cunning

of the night

to insult the death

the bird, look at her, it sips

from the goblets

filled with good and bad

she sings and starts to die

having a human soul.

 

Forgiving red color

the gods were wondering

and are still wondering

how the colors

of the questions

left on the shoulders of people

or snakes

are not altering

the agility

always present

the epistles searched

a coming train

another one sneaking, ready to leave

the diaphragm

of our questions

provoking wrinkles

on the face and on the back

the wind takes the form

of my garments

ready for the gala

the masks of those who hurt me

have the varnish shrivelled

they want themselves to be

redeemed

I take pitty

and I hug them with the only heart

of mine that I still have left

from my former lives.