I filled my eyes
as you were playing on the seashore
and if sometimes
I turned my head
to see a sea-gull
disappear far away,
my heart
never left you,
my body
never stopped loving you,
fantasy
kept taking us
beyond the horizon.
My eyes full of you
will look for you forever
among memories
that never die.

10.5.'15

I don't know what to do for you,
children.
I've heard you tell your stories,
with terror in your eyes
and voices broken by emotion,
I've seen you cry
for your lost dear ones,
I've heard your dreams
of a garden where you can play
with no more bombs or bullets,
of a house where you can sleep
without holes in the walls,
of a school where you can study
without fear of having to flee,
of a place where you can grow up
without hatred or grudges.
I don't know what to do for you,
children.
I can only write
hoping that my words
will reach the hearts
of those who claim to love you
but don't love you,
of those who claim to protect you
but don't protect you,
of those who don't want you to die
but **** you,
of those who don't want you to suffer
yet make you suffer,
of those who can stop all this
but refuse to do it.

27.12.'15

The evening shines
in a sky of rain
kissed by the sun
that betrays the dark
and dazzles my eyes.
Memories stir
in this fog screen
and show images
of a time to come
rummaging in forgotten
and far away tunnels.
Desires never seen
crowd the moments
never ending cries
prisoners of the heart
reappear again.
Freeing sighs
among silent thunders
I wake up gently

and the evening shines

on a day of summer.

21.6.'15

The boy looks
so gentle
with a rose on his head
and a refined appearance.
Elegant motions
make noble his body
and sweet words
mild his heart.
I THE prince, chose him
as my squire
and in far away lands
and lost worlds
we have shared
fire, water, food,
a pallet,
interwoven with memories,
a life,
adorned with colours,
a destiny,
embroidered with love.
We have drunk
at the spring of Eternal Youth
and from time immemorial
we, sometimes hidden,
live our adventures
in the minds of men.

8.6.’15

When the last petal
of the rose that you gave me
withers,
when the scent
of your skin
disappears,
in the days of the moon
I will watch the hand
on which you used to sleep
and one more time
under the silver rays
I will kiss your lips
to never forget you.

11.3.'15

10 trees in the forest.
The home of my tribe
for thousands of years.
9 trees in the forest.
The thirst of riches
can dry up an ocean.
8 trees in the forest.
They assured us
that they will not cut more trees,
in the name of respect.
7 trees in the forest.
They told us
that they still have to cut
a few more trees,
in the name of progress.
6 trees in the forest.
The world is a peacock
that boasts of its ideals,
in the name of rights
but its tail soon closes again.
5 trees in the forest.
We don't find food anymore
and our children cry,
in the name of hunger.
4 trees in the forest.
Someone writes about us,
in the name of information.
3 trees in the forest.
Someone pretends to help us,
in the name of falsity.
2 trees in the forest.
We are dying
and everyone notices.
One tree in the forest.
We are dead
and no one notices.
There are no more trees in the forest.
They will write books
on the extinct tribe
and they will pass on
to the next forest.

21.8.'15

“I'm smiling at you”
the sky said to me
but there was only a quarter of the moon
and I didn't understand.
“Bend your head”
he then said to me.
“One should be able to watch
from every angle
to see the beautiful things
where it seems that there aren't.”
I bent the head
and the sky was smiling at me.

24. 8. ’15