🇮🇹 Pioggia d’estate, mi copri col tuo amore
Pioggia d’estate, dolce e silenziosa,
che scende a baciarmi, che mi abbraccia.
Mi copri con il tuo amore,
con la tua freschezza che rinfresca l’anima.

Ogni goccia che scivola sul mio volto
è come un ricordo di te,
un abbraccio che non finisce mai,
una carezza che il cielo mi dona in segreto.

— Masi Roberto © 2025


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🇬🇧 Summer Rain, You Cover Me with Your Love
Summer rain, gentle and silent,
falling to kiss me, to embrace me.
You cover me with your love,
with your freshness that soothes the soul.

Each drop that slides down my face
is like a memory of you,
an embrace that never ends,
a caress the sky gives me in secret.

— Masi Roberto © 2025

In Virginia, summer is relinquishing control to fall: dropping the mornings, leaving claw marks on the day, asleep in the nights

How many times has this annoyed me?

My last year, will I even notice fall in Pennsylvania?

For now, I’m begging the Virginia equinox to hold me in its arms, keep me aware until it’s too late to look back

shiver
woollen scarf black
earth in cold dreamland sleeps
brooding we strengthen barriers
wild winds
<~>
awake !
yolk bursts a beak
faint gardenia sweet
freshly cut grass, lips open wide
buds sleek
<~>
bright blue
cool linen new
litchi ice-cream dripping down throat
sun laughs loud
hot lot
<~>
mellow
maturation
cinnamon floats woody
musky flesh loamy depths spice-wise
mushrooms
<~>
cycles
forever turn
seasons speak singularly
winter spring summer autumn rings
bring zings
<~~~~~~~>

i did not fall in love
with poetry
because of textbooks.
an a plus student,
excellent in german,
lit and history,
could not bear the idea
of studying a poet’s
second-hand misunderstandings.

it was a summer
filled with cigarette smoke
and borrowed crushes —
my godmother’s nephew
with his band tees
and cheekbones
that lit the spark
against my will.

fifteen going on tragic,
the air thick with heat,
through the windows
he blasted music,
'ordinary disappointments',
screaming vulgarities,
the really bad kind
that me at thirteen
shouldn’t have known about.

during those months
those lyrics
lived in the back of my mind,
especially when the sun fell,
leaving only
the deep indigo of the night.

after summer ended
and he went back home,
i still carried a piece of him
as if he were my own shadow,
and the gateway drug
of obscene lyrics
and songs about józsef attila
intoxicated me.

i still believe
those blistering weeks
forged my taste
for poetry.

So even the hot days can end,
Clouds can cover the sky as if nothing remained.

We are all hypocrits in mind's eye
We hate the sun for being hot, but desire it's warmth
We hate summer when winter's just as cruel
And hate the rain for pouring;
But talk about how the soil touches our soul.

Leaves pale and lose their cling;
No longer does the bluebird sing;
Summer's had her annual fling;
She's had her annual fling.

Fat squirrels still chatter in my trees,
Raid my feeders in a cooling breeze
As bluejays rob and mock and tease
Summer's lost her lease.

Morning's chilled the dew to look like frost;
Raspberries' final crops may soon be lost;
The river birch's leaves dry crisp as toast;
Other leaves will join the host.

It's time to winterize the house again,
Shut off garden lines, and let them drain,
Prepare farewell to summer's rain,
Farewell to summer's rain.

Some relief I find in winter time,
A rest from summer so sublime,
A pause, as earth and I recline,
And wait for summer time.

I've been initiated, in classrooms
in workshops and at home
in bed, I knew it for sure, I too

am a devil's child
such a person who, in flesh
and blood, can live on pleasure

who smears soap on his skin
places incense between his clothes
puts on an apron and prepares dinner

Every bite, every kiss
is a yes from my senses
and I can't be more earthly

than, out of lust, jointly
initiating a new human
being into a body

Everything flows easily
I also rely on that
I do what I like

In the eyes of others
I sit on a throne, so
they ask for my guidance

and I pay attention
to what they want to achieve
It costs me the freedom

to go my own way
but the better I see
what people do, understanding

the course of lives better
and sometimes I can lead them
I don't have a guide myself

and I always have to
step off the throne
and step back by myself

I don't need to dream
of emperors and dragons
I'm like them myself
a focal point

of energy
finding free ways where
it desires to flow to
or away from

I dream of
renewing
what is stuck
or run off track

passing on order
to the fire
water, earth
and air of life