Notte: tenere oscurità dell'anima.
(questa fu scritta una notte di Aprile 2006, quando conobbi una donna di nome Viviana, e dedicata alla Notte)
Quanto sei bella notte.
Madre dei Sogni, Madre degli Incubi.
Nero utero che geme imprecando, partorendo desideri ardui a contenersi.
Tu che generasti le forze più violente, ora sei qui ad allattare i miei sogni.
Macabra è la tua figura, eppur ispira lussuria e tenere effusioni.
Languid yet violent shaking my spirit wanders
my will in the darkest recesses of my soul, led by mother
darkness.
I see you, you dream, and I challenge you crave.
Difficult is to tame that inspire, mother darkness, yet the action
pure action, and letting go, in crossing all limits,
to rebuild on the ruins of what you've created.
Violent emotions running through my veins,
spasmodic stir my instincts in the bones,
difficult to domarsi, Veri, Volunteer collide
in a titanic struggle, once Victoria.
what leads me away from what I love,
but even more I get closer to it,
and even more makes it understandable for my crazy mind.
What are you if not madness? What are you if not brutal Lust?
yet come down, tender, fill my limbs, as comforting sleep.
I surrender to my wishes, I am not afraid.
you would like to wrap me in dreams and forbidden
in embraces so covets. Inspire me, push me,
energizes me in the light of day I thought forgotten.
resurrected. Again, like the phoenix in the morning light,
to throw in the evening, again, in your embrace.
until they manage to seize that moment, True, when I can leave me with all my might.
Madre dei Sogni, Madre degli Incubi.
Nero utero che geme imprecando, partorendo desideri ardui a contenersi.
Tu che generasti le forze più violente, ora sei qui ad allattare i miei sogni.
Macabra è la tua figura, eppur ispira lussuria e tenere effusioni.
Languid yet violent shaking my spirit wanders
my will in the darkest recesses of my soul, led by mother
darkness.
I see you, you dream, and I challenge you crave.
Difficult is to tame that inspire, mother darkness, yet the action
pure action, and letting go, in crossing all limits,
to rebuild on the ruins of what you've created.
Violent emotions running through my veins,
spasmodic stir my instincts in the bones,
difficult to domarsi, Veri, Volunteer collide
in a titanic struggle, once Victoria.
what leads me away from what I love,
but even more I get closer to it,
and even more makes it understandable for my crazy mind.
What are you if not madness? What are you if not brutal Lust?
yet come down, tender, fill my limbs, as comforting sleep.
I surrender to my wishes, I am not afraid.
you would like to wrap me in dreams and forbidden
in embraces so covets. Inspire me, push me,
energizes me in the light of day I thought forgotten.
resurrected. Again, like the phoenix in the morning light,
to throw in the evening, again, in your embrace.
until they manage to seize that moment, True, when I can leave me with all my might.
 | |
| Durer - Melancholy | |
(this is dedicated to just come from a weapon mine, was Viviana written when I decided to forget at the end of 2006)
You, you give me life.
You, you grant me death.
You, you who are Scorpio indomitable.
When the vision is open to the pain,
the fog dissipates
and vision clears.
When everything collapses
and slag melt,
Alchemy of Decay.
Then you reveal to me the dark diamond
that nothing can touch.
Sol
Sol in Scorpio.
Sol Invictus.
XIII. You who grant us life.
You, you grant me death.
You, you who are Scorpio indomitable.
When the vision is open to the pain,
the fog dissipates
and vision clears.
When everything collapses
and slag melt,
Alchemy of Decay.
Then you reveal to me the dark diamond
that nothing can touch.
Sol
Sol in Scorpio.
Sol Invictus.
XIII. You who grant us life.
And in closing, Gerard De Nerval, El Desdichado (the Codex Manesse).
I am the dark - the widower - the inconsolable
The Prince of Aquitaine from the tower abrogated
My only star is dead - and on my lute decorated with embossed stars
is the black sun of Melancholy. In the tomb
night, thou who hast consoled
Give Posillipo and the sea of \u200b\u200bItaly,
The flower that gladdened my heart so much desert
And when the vine pergola entwined with the rose.
Am I Love or Phoebus? Lusignan or Biron?
My forehead is still red from the kiss of the queen
I have dreamed in the grotto where the siren swims ...
Twice I crossed the Acheron Victorious: Alternate
modulating the lyre of Orpheus
The sighs and cries of the holy the fairy.
Until the serenity of a conclusion for the few. This was written when I picked up my poems written between 2005 and 2007, realizing that at the end of two years full of deadly and catastrophic events on each floor (economic, emotional, personal, couple, friendship), everything was simply flowed in a course of events, which brutally revealed the intimate nature of the turbulent life of the undersigned.
Joy of Being.
Joy of Becoming.
Joy of Knowing.
Joy of Fighting.
Joy mow Anime.
Ecstasy of War Alchemy
Eros. We
Joy of Being.
Stop Stop.
Stop by and watched.
Your life becomes.
Your life is born and dies.
Every day, every hour, every minute.
Your life becomes.
Your soul is.
Your action leads you to be.
Stop, and win yourself.
Trul - (I)
Trul. And the gate opens.
you ahead of yourself.
you white you black
you color.
you black you white you
red. Yesterday, today and tomorrow.
Kill yourself and you suffer.
Vinci yourself and sacrifice.
poison yourself and purification.
cold, romantic melodramas,
advances. Taste the pain of the collapse, but do not stop
.
Trul - (II)
Trul, and the gate remains in your soul.
Knowing yourself involves sacrifice.
There is no battle casualties.
Continue. Stop. Dominated.
The courage to complete an action that results in pain,
is the way of purity.
Your nightmares are the acids that dissolve your waste.
Fight and die.
Trul. and the gate closes.
Tyr, and is confident in the victory.
Joy of Becoming.
Joy of Knowing.
Joy of Fighting.
Joy mow Anime.
Ecstasy of War Alchemy
Eros. We
Joy of Being.
Among the poems themselves that this was closed, there were also:
Stop Stop.
Stop by and watched.
Your life becomes.
Your life is born and dies.
Every day, every hour, every minute.
Your life becomes.
Your soul is.
Your action leads you to be.
Stop, and win yourself.
Trul - (I)
Trul. And the gate opens.
you ahead of yourself.
you white you black
you color.
you black you white you
red. Yesterday, today and tomorrow.
Kill yourself and you suffer.
Vinci yourself and sacrifice.
poison yourself and purification.
cold, romantic melodramas,
advances. Taste the pain of the collapse, but do not stop
.
Trul - (II)
Trul, and the gate remains in your soul.
Knowing yourself involves sacrifice.
There is no battle casualties.
Continue. Stop. Dominated.
The courage to complete an action that results in pain,
is the way of purity.
Your nightmares are the acids that dissolve your waste.
Fight and die.
Trul. and the gate closes.
Tyr, and is confident in the victory.
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