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You have no choice
except to stand
in front of naked life
when you are sick
nobody’s there just
plenty of you and
voices from the past.
Absolute silent at
night while you are
alone with yourself
and the ceiling.
And there you are
from head to feet
your very self
unknown to those
white walls.
That nusty buzzing
in you ear as if life
was somebody else’s
business.
And life is the last
thing you have in mind
letting yourself down
until you touch the sky.
And now it’s morning
and life is still with you
out of the windows
trees gently sing
except to stand
in front of naked life
when you are sick
nobody’s there just
plenty of you and
voices from the past.
Absolute silent at
night while you are
alone with yourself
and the ceiling.
And there you are
from head to feet
your very self
unknown to those
white walls.
That nusty buzzing
in you ear as if life
was somebody else’s
business.
And life is the last
thing you have in mind
letting yourself down
until you touch the sky.
And now it’s morning
and life is still with you
out of the windows
trees gently sing
that loving tune.
Ecco la Gazzato che preferisco, anche in versione anglofona.
Bella poesia di dolore e amore della vita, estraneo irrisolto
mistero e pur presenza ed essenza del nostro essere.
Ringrazio entrambi per l’apprezzamento. Ma se non vi dovesse piacere potete dirlo senza remore, non mi offendo. L’ho scritta di getto (come sempre) ieri sera e come sempre, almeno per me, ha l’effetto di un piccolo (piccolissimo) miracolo.