FLYING TIME
Time is flying, thus driving us westwards
Where people are dreaming of gold and silver,
Winds of gaiety and peace get blowing fast.
In summer, waves are stirring the water,
The calm sea smells salty in wild sandy
Empty beaches, portrait of a promised land.
Dry leaves are falling in chilly October
It is then when fields get tanned easily,
Suddenly covered with a sheep herd
Whose milky wool can be seen everywhere,
Squeaky sounds calm us down instantly,
Useless to reckon we are the only ones.
Natural voices in that clean scenery
Catch our hearts off and blow them open.
LETTING DOWN
Just when everyone was working in green olive groves
I saw nature surrounding my whole soul and body
Thoroughly … Silence was broken by some weeping.
Iron hearts became tender in a while.
It was time to share, beauty elsewhere,
Water splashing and no more sorrowing.
Short amusing splashes of hope and brightness.
Our senses got closer to our essence,
As nature was digging deep and making us more human.
Our breath was beating hard once and then.
I did not look back on hideous times,
As white as a sheet our future was.
Somebody was singing, inland sounds
Covering the air not letting us down.
AGAIN
Again you shall intend to take off the waters
Of the canal, the river, the lake, the sea.
You’re moving everything too strongly.
Maybe it’s all right, but you should reason,
As it is never useful to rush around,
You should be here from dawn to dusk
Reddening the sky, since tenacity always wins.
The stars shall be confidants to engender charm.
If you do not proceed, you will see birds
Making alluring sculptures in the air.
Learn to register your name on a human list
Who are not nomadic and still enjoy themselves.
Whenever possible, after a long while of empty life,
You should not flee from a lasting ceiling.
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