ON THE CABLES
They are exposed to the public domain
public and private feelings of digital natives.
No more pigeons
Neither moonlight serenades.
and yet the clothes are hanging out to dry,
hot is condensing
the desire to socialize
to ward off with a beep
the desolation of silences
too long retained.
Loneliness of today's days
Is getting quiet on the cables.
LEAVING AND COMING BACK
From sky to sea
and from earth to heaven
with perpetual and circular motion
I challenge squalls and winds
and I never retreat.
I am small and flexible,
I adapt to the current
I can't twirl like a snowflake,
nor will I rattle like a hailstone.
I am the outburst of the clouds,
I am the manna through the plowed fields,
I am the desire of young sparrows
in the heat of August.
I am a mosquito bite
for the angry stream,
I am a nun among other ones
in the placid river.
Deft I walk down to the sea
and there I dance
between the waves and the rocks
thinning myself one day
and embracing the sky.
Leaving and coming back
otherelse I couldn’t do.
Ode to you
liquid cradle for the dreamers,
Muse" for painters and for novelists,
for seagulls and fishermen!
Ode to you
for rebels and for pioneers,
for the inflatable boats of strangers
Disturbed is your frenetic pulsing
because of the dross of the nuclear power plant.
Ode to the sparkling laughters of bathers!
Ode to the tickle that Grecale and Maestrale
test on the innocence of the wave.
Deaf and mute are the consciences
of the brave nocturnal helmsmen
Ode to you, Mare Nostrum,
ode to your improvising yourself
pentagram of a several voices chorus,
sounding box of quick lullabies,
main road of hope,
vibrant warning to avoid the the mattanza.