The birth of a poem...

The essence of very tiny detail, like a carefully placed comma, or an invisible sigh of admiration, distilled into dewdrops sliding over the long green leaves that protect tulips from overexposure, redeeming the beautiful bold color and adding a dimension of its own.

Then letting it go into thin air, like a weightless particle,arriving in far-away places, like a carefully thought-out idea, a blissful singular event, a flash of infinitesimal brightness, arriving at noon, completely negating shadows and at the same time completely absolving them.

The reign of calm arrived with these words and it is here to stay...

Sunday, January 16, 2011


Sono il mulino al vento sconfitto da Don Chisciotte

Sono un tulipano bianco grazioso

Sul tasto nero del pianoforte.

Mi perdo tra i gusti di mille colori

gioia dolce e salata.

Grido al mondo con i sussurri del sole

Dico a tutti com'è bello il mare.

Attraverso le montagne, trovo l'albero

giusto per contare i giorni

che non tornano più.


Corro senza fermarmi

Volo, faccio magia

Diffondo sorrisi a chi ne ha bisogno

Regalo un pizzico del mio cuore

A chi mi sta vicino.

Lascio tracce nella sabbia

Fino all'arrivo della marea

E faccio un patto con il mare..

Lascio tutti i desideri nel sogno..

E al risveglio non mi farà annegare

nelle lacrime per i sogni che non tornano più.

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Friday, January 14, 2011

St. Brelade Bay

The moon's crescent and the curve of the bay
Making the circle complete.
Daily delights and digressions at dusk
The perfect rose, the sweet scent of lavender
And the green green call of calm
As the day bows and the night raises the curtain
To a starry sky. It makes you wonder..
The dream ends where the sea meets the sky
And the horizon is where you want it to be..
Willing the ships to come home, to bring hope
Home to me.
Whispers of good night and silvery reflections
As the safe harbour never fails to offer shelter.
Rescue me
From the shadows of the night
And take me to the Corbiere and its welcoming light
Teach me the names of all the flowers
Let each petal embalm each hour
Let the hours slip away
Like find golden sand on St. Brelade's Bay.
Fine droplets of water like open necklaces
Swing in sweet abandon, defying gravity
The tide is low..and the breeze tells stories
About the old secrets of the sea.
The shells echo old mariner's melodies.
And if you listen you'll find out what those stars
Had to say so many years ago, about dreams
Being born, being raised to become realities
Or fairytales of enchanted castles and princesses.
Close your eyes and dream..the glass encapsules
All those uncertainties. It's only you and me..
It's only what you want it to be.
Two smiles make yet another circle complete.
An island in the stream, and a shore under a spell
And only the stars will tell..

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