Metamorphosis and rebirth



  METAMORPHOSIS AND REBIRTH

  * * * * *

  PUBLISHED BY: Rosario Volpi

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  Copyright © 2012 by Rosario Volpi

  °°°°°

  I solved each enigma

  I solved each enigma!

  The distance that separates the earth

  from heaven

  is a meter of poetry.

  °°°°°

  On the cross

  I nailed the soul

  on the cross of indecision,

  I'm frozen

  undergo events

  waiting for my order,

  this well-deserved death

  for those who, like me,

  has not sought

  did not struggle

  did not believe ...

  I did everything myself,

  I was crowned with thorns,

  I scourged

  and crucified on the cross of my selfishness.

  I know that no one will cry at my feet,

  no one will pierce with a spear

  and no one will give me vinegar to drink.

  Neither I hope to save me,

  because who could invoke if not myself?

  I nailed his hands and feet,

  hoping not to be a man,

  but now I can only say:

  "Father, forgive myself

  because I know what I did."

  °°°°°

  Metamorphosis

  At the first sun,

  I leave the house

  like a lizard from the hibernation.

  It's me,

  if I see myself in the mirror ...

  I will see me as a being shaded green

  tinged with gray:

  it's due to the cold of the past months;

  a forked tongue:

  too many blows to the life,

  at the end they split into two

  as a wooden sword.

  And the tail,

  the long tail

  for too many lies,

  because when you listen to too many lies

  even fairy tales are reversed

  and, in place of the nose

  grows the tail.

  On the way there is a bench

  carved in stone,

  with endless tunnels

  bushes and grass,

  I would like insert my  head

  as the others do,

  but not enter.

  However, I eat the sun

  I'm king of the lizards,

  they are deployed around me,

  stopped

  and stare at me.

  No need for words,

  afterall

  we contemplate the same God of the sun

  and we satisfy the same desire for light and peace.

  Before long

  the night come, with its slow pace

  to wrap the derelict bench

  and, while they

  remain lizards

  I will be back again man.

  °°°°°

  The weather is changing

  It stopped raining just now

  and I move the steps slowly

  like every natural thing that changes:

  slowly.

  In this September evening

  the weather is changing,

  small signs there say it,

  the old men sitting behind the windows

  already know this,

  I know, the feel on the skin,

  also you know

  because it is already dark at this time of all times,

  on the way home,

  yesterday looked at the green grass

  and a moment ago you stepped on a dry leaf.

  We know,

  everything will be different soon,

  when September ends.

  °°°°°

  Ode to Pablo Neruda

  The poetry

  is as blood, flowing in everything ...

  and you, Neftali Ricardo Reyes

  as a vampire,

  wrapped in the mantle by railroad

  you went through the streets of Chile

  to feed your hunger.

  But, it was in the evening,

  when you undressed,

  that shone in your eyes the flame of the poet

  and that blood in your hands caught fire,

  burning like fire of passionate love,

  as a focus of complaint or revolt,

  like fire which raises man's pride wounded

  and devours injustice.

  In your verses

  I make a trip without luggage,

  without respite,

  run away train as an exile

  along tracks endless ...

  I sit next to you

  and through the window

  with your eyes

  I scan the life.

  °°°°°

  On the pentagram of the sea

  If you were here beside

  to this tangle of light and dark

  who is my soul,

  you'll listen the symphony of the emotions

  that my sighs have engraved for you

  on the pentagram of the sea.

  °°°°°

  I love you

  I love you

  in the distances,

  in the empty spaces and dark

  when no one knows you exist

  yet we are.

  I love you nearby,

  in symbiotic fusion of our bodies,

  when everyone knows that you exist

  yet we delete everything.

  I love you

  when you're

  and there you are,

  because between being and non-being

  at any point it is certain that I love you.

  I love you

  when you doubt my love,

  because my love

  covers all your questions.

  I love you

  because if I could not love you

  I would love you still,

  because being there or not being there

  my love for you is a certainty.

  °°°°°

  The crown of coral

  It is ginned

  the pomegranate of the time.

  The time is sunk

  in glasses of passion.

  I turn my back at sunset,

  I look at my shadow expand to nowhere,

  my every step

  has the weight of a thousand centuries.

  are imprisoned

  in the hourglass of eternity,

  that your hugs of crystal and amber,

  have erected around my soul.

  My room

  is

  a boat upturned

  on a beach forgotten.

  bathed in silence,

  shines only

  the ethereal crown of coral

  the night has woven

  to crown your eyes

  sovereign of my heart,

  tyrants of my sighs.

  °°°°°

  Positano

  Statuary stone

  your skin,

  and from every inlet

  expands your marine aroma.

  Penetrating in your bones of cement,

  along the tiny spaces,

  arched alleys,

  my
feet kissing the stones

  of your down

  and collect the caresses

  of your solar earth.

  I'm going at a slow pace,

  in contemplation,

  as behind a procession of spirits,

  widening one by one the rosary

  of your fragrances,  at each step,

  I breathe, what I never breathed:

  is the smell of fried

  sweet, leather of sandals,

  wooden centenary, paint corroded.

  And then I come to your noble blood,

  to your sea,

  there where a boat lonely

  with its forms of siren

  a flower carved into the chest of a wave

  and a dazzling sapphire poignant

  arose from the waters

  shaking,

  in a shiver,

  the heart.

  °°°°°

  Acid vital

  We eat

  bread of stone,

  and of pillows

  forged steel

  abandon our head,

  the water that quenches

  is like fetid mud ...

  the world,

  is a trunk solid.

  But we live.

  We're alive!

  And life

  is an acid

  that corrodes everything!

  °°°°°

  Sky over Baghdad

  Sky over Baghdad

  at sunset,

  on your canvas velvet,

  I noted my thoughts.

  I looked up

  and I could see the stars,

  in the river of the sky ...

  every night,

  every night,

  surfing

  on the boat

  of my dreams.

  today,

  someone ripped your face millennial

  because I would have been confused,

  someone blindfold your eyes,

  so I didn't dream more.

  My sky is a cloud of smoke

  and my stars, trails of bombs and bullets

  Where are you heaven of my days and my nights?

  You, too, besieged, wounded, prisoner?

  Sky over Baghdad,

  before, your freedom was mine,

  I offer you all the dreams that were mine,

  now, even your darkness are mine.

  I lost all my dreams,

  but the one I saved, the largest ...

  my biggest dream are you:

  sky over Baghdad.

  °°°°°

  Eyes

  Uncertainty of a moment

  I found

  the depth of your eyes.

  Your eyes ...

  Your eyes ... ...

  a storm of peace

  in a desert of concern

  °°°°°

  Soul

  When I walked in your eyes

  I thought, I'm lost

  but then,

  turned right

  on a path of flowers,

  after all,

  beyond all:

  a spa,

  a breath

  filled the vacuum,

  "Naked"

  I entered the waters

  and I lost all my form.

  I thought

  he had reached paradise

  but on a sign

  was written: Soul

  °°°°°

  Without exit

  Dear Friend

  cry the defeat,

  curse the abyss

  that swallowed thee eyes

  and have poisoned breath.

  Sometimes they are our victories enhanced

  to imprison ourselves,

  and, then the fault is ours;

  sometimes it's the changing of the seasons

  and others' words inordinate

  to confuse us,

  then the fault is still ours.

  Because we are the ones that always

  open and close the doors to events.

  For this, as I do,

  I sit still,

  with all the trouble next, and I rest,

  because even the trouble they get tired,

  however, they will not let us never

  always on our way,

  always in equilibrium

  on our nerves stretched

  The misfortunes are as inviting gardens

  that have beautiful doors

  but within them lie the desert,

  a maze without walls or hedges or trees.

  In the end, each maze

  has an easy entry

  and its output tiring

  that