horse gallops wayward
in the far distance an arch
new thoughts clench my fist
future
clear blue skies
clear blue skies take over
in puddles of late summer rain
reflected glory shows the future
I stare and try to see connections
snow smokes
snow smokes across the sunset
my eyesight starts to fail
tomorrow grows ever distant
So goodbye, a kiss
It was a nest
Though now young heart encouraged and air brave
breaks stretched bonds of parents’ fearing
Home will always be
They will miss you, son, yes of course they will
They will miss you soon
Why else would they have changed your name?
As Don Chiciuco laughs across the border
waking you to another dream
Study! Study as we never did
Learn the world from inside and from out
Study with the social, learn the individual
See the seedling, the germ fast flowing in the blood
So goodbye, a kiss upon the cheek
Your world grows wider as ours contracts
Our future that of which we cannot speak
Learn how to remember – we have taught you how to act
For Matteo
Matera settembre 2018
E allora addio, un bacio
Era un nido
anche se ora il giovane cuore, incoraggiato e impavido come l’aria,
rompe la corda tesa dai timori dei genitori
sarà sempre casa
Loro sentiranno la tua mancanza, figlio, sì certo
sentiranno la tua mancanza subito
Altrimenti perché avrebbero cambiato il tuo nome?
Mentre Don Chiciuco ride al di là del confine
ti sveglia ad un nuovo sogno
Studia! Studia come noi non abbiamo mai fatto
Impara il mondo dal di dentro e dal di fuori
Studia con il sociale, impara l’individuale
Vedi il germoglio, il germe che scorre nel sangue
E allora addio, un bacio sulla guancia
il tuo mondo si espande mentre il nostro contrae
il nostro futuro, quello di cui non possiamo parlare
impara come ricordare, noi ti abbiamo insegnato come agire
Traduzione di Mariella e Matteo
Xylella
The olive trees are dying and we must burn them, dry twigs, snapped branches, roots.
In the late-morning sun and the silence of the old men’s tears, the sound of axes. Hard hands are torn. Children watch from the shade, sparrows in the thorny oak.
For centuries the trees have given and now it seems an end. But we, green-hearted, hopeful, we shall plant again and our grandchildren shall harvest.
I ran through the dark
I ran through the dark
I ran through the winter snow
The dawn will break soon
From inside the office
Window cleaners swing on ropes
Commandos with a squeezy mop
I can see clearly now
Selfie
You walked up to me, put your arm around my shoulders and snapped a selfie. You’ll be famous one day, you said, and I’ve got my photo all ready. It’ll be everywhere. And away you walked.
My summer is ending
My summer is ending
and the red leaves shiver
before the fall.
My summer is ending
I see your spring arrive
fresh green from white.
My summer is ending
Your faces are sun-shot
sparkling futures.
And the sun and the warmth
of near cloudless sky
my summer is ending.
Written in the stars
Nothing, but nothing, is written in the stars. Except the words I felt when you held my hand and the stars fell towards the sea.
