awakening

I do not know what medicine you may be
though

 breathing your dreams dancing as fresh water below your eyelids

and before sunrise,
I am saved , I'm alive in your sleep

 

Marco Bo

giorno di nascita

  presso questo palcoscenico di periferia
accarezziamo la vita con carta vetrata
  nessun dubbio in mente
  ne timori nelle vene
da giovani

  da vecchi
 la prendiamo a pugni con un velo di seta
  infiniti dubbi sulle nocche
  tanto dolore invano
 e fragili oltre ogni limite
  carichi del nostro destino vaghiamo

  effimeri anni di sabbia
   infiniti secondi di pietra pomice
  l'amore e la cura
  maschere invisibili

Marco Bo
 

day of birth

when young
we caress life with sand paper
no doubts in mind
no fears in our veins

when old
we punch it with a silk veil
 endless doubts on the knuckles
hurting so much and in vain

fragile beyond all limits
carrying our doom
we roam

years of sand
seconds of dust
love and care
invisible masks

 

Marco Bo

any day bill of fare

I believed I exposed arguments that would elucidate
you thought you understood that I wanted to teach the response

I explained that I was trying to be of non hindrance assistance
you explained to me that there was nothing you could do about it,
it was not your designed assignment

the procedure in subject remains unsolved,
and a ball full of scrumptious rare regards
 until the next well-broiled dispute
gratuities included

Marco Bo

 

born again

through the procedures and compromises,
hidden in the folds of the years
  to remain close to yourself

in chasing yourself without rest between the smiles and the tears
on other people faces

  a race
which will last to the end of our fragile and  precarious forever
 
like a bud in spring
being born
back then
now
and again

Marco Bo

nascere

 attraverso le procedure ed i compromessi,  
nascosti tra le pieghe degli anni
 per rimanere vicini a sé stessi

nel rincorrersi senza riposo tra i sorrisi e le lacrime
sul viso degli altri,

 una corsa
che durerà fino alla fine del nostro fragile e precario sempre,
 
come una gemma in primavera
nascere
allora
adesso
 e ancora

Marco Bo

deserted

deserted
surrendering as a seed on dry soil
and dreaming about
being pods in a liquid kiss

entangled
giving up memories and following them silently
as the first fish that came out from the water
to then seek happiness in homecoming
not ashamed of its own feet

Marco Bo