info@tinamaria.it
ARTIST'S THOUGHT
WHAT WILL I LEAVE IN THESE PLACES
ON THAT DAY WHEN THE BARE EARTH WILL FALL UPON ME? ...
FAR FROM ME THE THOUGHT THAT TORTURES
AND TAKES SPACE AWAY FROM THE ART OF CREATING.
I DON'T ALWAYS WANT MYSELF IN THIS LIFE
THAT SOMETIMES MAKES ME A DEAD THING ...
LOST, AMONG PEOPLE IN SEARCH OF FORTUNE
AND INTERMITTENT HEARTBEATS.
I WOULD LIKE THAT HERE, OF ME, AT LEAST A LITTLE REMAINS
OF MY SWEET ENJOYMENT OF THINKING…
I WOULD LIKE TO LEAVE… SOMETHING TO GIVE,
A STILL IMAGE OF IMAGES OF LIFE
THAT LIVE FOREVER,
BECAUSE THE TIME WILL COME WHEN I TOO MUST LEAVE
WITHOUT LUGGAGE,
NEVER TO RETURN.
SALICE
I WOULD NOT WANT TO BE IN ANOTHER PLACE
IF NOT HERE,
HERE WHERE YOU REST,
O GREAT WILLOW.
HERE WHERE THE ROWS
OF YOUR LONG ARMS
SHADE MY OUTLINES
FROM THE GLIMMER OF INTENSE LIGHT
THAT BRAZENLY STRETCHES OUT.
HERE, AMONG THE GREEN HILLS
WHERE YOU LIE,
STRETCHED OUT,
WITH HALF-CLOSED EYELIDS,
WAITING FOR THE DAY TO DIE
MARKET SUNDAY
YOU CAN HEAR MORNING BELLS FROM AFAR
AND SOON THE SUN WILL RISE
DRESSING A NEW DAY.
ON THE STREET, PEOPLE WHISPERING SOFTLY
HURRYING, ALREADY WORKING AND PRODUCING A GREAT BUZZ
THAT REDUNDANTLY FREES ITSELF INTO THE AIR
SNIPPETS OF LIFE ON THE MARKET STALLS
BELONGED TO WHO KNOWS WHICH TRAVELING SOULS
USED PIECES, WORTHY OF A POSTER
TO THOSE WHO CAREFULLY BROUGHT AND LEFT THEM
PERHAPS THINKING ONE DAY OF WHO WOULD WEAR THEM.
HANDS THAT ANXIOUSLY SEARCH FOR CLOTHES BUT NOT ONLY...
THINGS THAT, IF YOU THINK ABOUT IT, YOU WOULDN'T BUY
VOICES RISE AS THE DAY RISES,
SHOUTS THAT ENCOURAGE BUYING
FRANTIC STEPS, PUSHES, BLOWS,
BREATHLESS RUNS TO SNATCH UP THE BEST ITEMS...
YOU BRING HOME A SEA OF THINGS,
A WHOLE RIVER OF GOOD FEELINGS
AND EVERYTHING ELSE YOU COULDN'T POSSIBLY WANT MORE!
OH YES.
WHAT GREAT MAGIC SUNDAY AT THE MARKET IS...
WITH LITTLE MONEY YOU CAN FEEL LIKE A KING
AND BUY THE WORLD!
THE TRAINS
THE TRAINS THAT PASS SLOWLY INVITE YOU TO TRAVEL;
DON'T WAIT FOR THEM TO STOP…
YOU MUST DARE AND JUMP ON,
IF YOU WANT TO RIDE TIME!...
DO NOT FEAR TO MEET THE ENEMY
OUTSIDE YOUR DOOR,
BECAUSE THE ENEMY,
IF YOU DO NOT DARE,
WILL ALWAYS BE LURKING INSIDE YOU
AND YOU WILL FEEL,
HEAVY, CONSTANT AND EVERLASTING,
ITS BREATH ON YOUR NECK.
THE LITTLE GYPSY GIRL
A FINE EMBROIDERY ON THE HEM OF THE PETTICOAT,
A PEARL CLASP IN THE HAIR,
AND A NECKLACE OF FRESHLY PICKED FLOWERS
FALLS DOWN FROM THE NECK,
FRESH, IT SMELLS SWEET.
YOU MOVE YOUR LONG, WELL-SHAPED FINGERS
AND COUNT THE YEARS SPENT IN THIS LIFE,
THEY ARE VERY FEW…
LIKE THE LITTLE COINS THAT, ANNOYED AND IN A HURRY,
SOMEONE HAS SLIPPED BETWEEN YOUR VERY OWN FINGERS.
A BRUNETTE WITH THE COLOR OF AMBER
AND WHITE, NEW TEETH,
JUST BORN…
YOU EXTEND THAT SMALL AND ALREADY SKILLED HAND
TO ASK AND TO ALREADY FEEL DENIED.
BUT THIS IS A BAD DREAM…
EH NO, UNFORTUNATELY IT'S TRUE…
SHARP, VERY FINE LIKE A VEIL…
THERE ARE THOSE WHO SEE AND THOSE WHO PREFER NOT TO SEE.
THEY ARE ONLY STREET IMAGES,
IMAGES FROM ALWAYS…
THAT HAVE NOTHING TO DO
WITH THE PATH OF THE PEOPLE…
LET'S TAKE OFF OUR PARTY CLOTHES
AND LET'S DRESS OURSELVES AS EQUALS TOO.
LET'S OPEN OUR EYES WIDE AND STOP TO THINK
OF THAT LITTLE GIRL,
WHO WITH HER HUMILITY AND GREAT PRIDE
MAKES US ASHAMED.
LET IT BE ...
... JUST LIKE AT A DAWN
FOLLOWS ITS SUNSET
AND AT DUSK THE NIGHT
AND THE SWEET SLEEP
…LIKE THIS…
LIKE ONE DAY THAT FOLLOWS ANOTHER DAY.
AND LET GO OF WHAT HAS BEEN,
BECAUSE WHAT HAS BEEN
IT'S GONE.
LET IT BE ABOUT YOU
AS IF TIME
IF IT HAD NEVER HAPPENED
…TO HAVE NO REGRETS OR RESENTMENTS…
AND LET THE FUTURE
THAT IS ALREADY NOW
DO NOT PUT CONDITIONS ON DESIRES.
LET IT BE SO…
LIKE THIS, SIMPLY…
LIKE THE SCENT OF GRASS
OR OR SLICED,
LIKE THE INTOXICATING FOAM OF THE SEA THAT BREAKS,
LIKE THE SONG
LET IT BE…
LET WHAT WILL BE OF YOU, BE.
IF ...
I WOULD SELL MY CORNER OF PAIN
IF ONLY I COULD,
OR BETTER YET…
I WOULD TRANSFORM IT
INTO A GARDEN OF LILACS AND BRIDAL FLOWERS,
IF ONLY I ALLOWED MYSELF.
I COULD CLEANSE MY THOUGHTS OF THEIR IMPURITIES
AND MAKE MYSELF IMPALPABLE AND PURE AS A ROSE.
INSATIABLE I WOULD DRINK FROM THE FOUNTAIN OF GOODNESS AND KNOWLEDGE
ANYTHING THAT COULD MAKE ME FEEL WHOLE,
UNTIL I OVERFLOWED WITH MY OWN FULLNESS.
I WOULD LIKE TO SAVOR EVERYTHING THAT SURROUNDS ME
ONLY IF I COULD…
TO BECOME GREATER AND STRONGER,
STRIPPING MYSELF OF SUCH WEAKNESS.
I COULD TOUCH THE SKY,
IF ONLY I WANTED TO…
IF I WERE A DEER, A GNOME…
OR EVEN A PANTHER…
I WOULD SEE THE WORLD FROM THE OTHER SIDE…
BUT WHAT AM I SAYING, AM I RAVING?
AH, IF ONLY I THOUGHT IT AND DIDN'T RAMBLE…
I WOULD NOTICE THE WRINKLES APPEARING
AND TIME PASSES,
AND I AM STILL HERE,
WITH ALL MY WHAT IFS…
MY BUTS…
AND WITH MILLIONS OF MAYBES.
AH, IF ONLY FOR A WHILE I COULD REST
AND NOT THINK…….
…….I WOULDN'T BE ME
FROM AFAR
MY THOUGHT RISES AND WANDERS
ALONG DESCENTS OF COUNTRY ROADS AND HILLS,
AND FROM AFAR, WONDER,
I SEE BEFORE ME SO MUCH BEAUTY…
AN OPEN EXPANSE OF HILLS
AND IN THE MOONLIGHT, THE WOODS.
LIFE
LIKE JEWELS, GUARDED WITH CARE
THEY ARRIVE, SWEET AND TENDER,
LIKE POMEGRANATES WHEN THEY ARE RIPE,
CROSSING THE MYSTERIOUS DOOR.
THERE IS NO SEASON FOR NEW LIFE
IF GENERATED WITHOUT GLANCES AT THE CALENDAR.
ANTICIPATED BY ACCOMPLICES TO THE UNDERSTANDING
OF THOSE WHO BOW TO PLEASURE AND LOVE;
BUT, SADLY,
WHEN THE DAY HAS NO LOVE,
IT IS RUIN.
CHRYSALIDES WAITING TO HATCH,
UNDISTURBED TRAVELERS,
STOWAWAYS IN NATURAL BASKETS,
LONG-AWAITED SURPRISES.
BEING BORN THEY HAVE A FLAG ON THEIR HEART
THAT THEY WILL CARRY FOR LIFE,
THE SYMBOL OF THE SOIL THAT AT THAT TIME
SAW THEM ENTER THE WORLD.
SO IT WILL BE, JUST AS IT BEGAN,
SINCE YOU EXIST, SINCE I EXIST
AND SINCE EVERYONE EXISTS.
IN THIS TIME THAT IS A MAD RACE,
THERE WILL ALWAYS BE THOSE WHO LEAVE US AND GO
AND THOSE WHO, ARRIVING, UNAWARE, FIND AN EMPTY PLACE
AND IT ALREADY BEGINS.
LIKE RIVERS INTO THE SEA
DESIRES SLIDE LIKE WATER ON RIVERS
OVERWHELMING, DANGEROUS, WITH UNSTEADY BANKS;
IMPERCEPTIBLE FURROWS ON THE SKIN
SMALL SCRAPS OF UNEXPRESSED FEELINGS.
ANCESTRAL REMINISCENCES OF THE PAST
PARADE IN LINE,
LIKE ROWS OF VINES, INTOXICATING AND MALEVOLENT
LIKE THE NECTAR OF THEIR FRUIT.
SWEET, TRANSGRESSIVE, TENDER,
STORMY NEEDS GROW,
THEY SWIRL LIKE WHIRLPOOLS
SWALLOWING WHAT PASSES BY WITHOUT ESCAPE,
FILLING THE VOIDS OF INTERNAL EARTHQUAKES.
THE SATIATED LABORED BREATH THINS OUT
AND A LIGHT BREEZE SLOWLY SLIDES OVER THE HEART.
THE SLEEP THAT COMES ACCOMPANIES THE THOUGHTS
THAT GO TO DIVE LIKE RIVERS INTO THE SEA.
