deseos

  bajo este cielo suburbano gris y solo
  nunca dejar de buscar una buena pista
  como un perro en un campo nariz al suelo

  e intentar imaginar cómo subir y bajar escaleras nuevas
  aunque empinadas y resbaladizas

  como un bote lento en el canal seguir adelante
  dejando la misma agua por ambos lados pasarte

  e imaginar respirar aire nueva
  caminar deslizándose entre transeúntes como un río en llena

  saborear en la bruma
  el aroma del café que viene y lejano vuela

  deseos?

  pequeñas cosas, sabores olores
  pasos

  y gran ansiedad siempre en cada respiro

  después de todo, de la vida esta es la fortuna

Marco Bo

wishes

 under this gray suburban sky
  never stop looking for a good track
  like a dog in the middle of a lawn nose on the ground

  and try to imagine how to get up and down new stairs
  even if steep even if slippery

  like a slow boat in the canal going forward
  allowing the same water to flow from both sides

  and imagine breathing new air
  walking slipping through passers-by like a river in flood

  perceiving in the haze
  the aroma of coffee that comes and flies away

wishes?

  little things, savors scents steps

  and great anxiety always at every single breath

  after all, this is the fortune of life

Marco Bo

auguri?

sotto questo grigio cielo di periferia
mai smettere di cercare una buona pista

come un cane  in mezzo a un prato naso a terra

 

e provare ad immaginare come salire e scendere scale nuove

anche se ripide e scivolose

come battello lento nel canale farsi avanti
lasciando scorrere la stessa acqua da entrambi i lati

 

e immaginare di respirare aria nuova

camminare scivolando tra i passanti come fiume in piena

percepire nella foschia 
l'aroma del caffè che arriva e vola via

auguri?
 

piccole cose, sapori odori
passi

e grande ansia sempre
ad ogni singolo respiro
 

 in fondo, della vita è questa la fortuna
 

Marco Bo

 

frágiles

frágiles
como un bote pequeño en el medio del oceano

libres
  como el reflejo de la luna que se desliza sobre el agua
 a veces su luz creciente
en nuestro regazo descansa

que esta es nuestra tarea?
de ola en la ola
y brazo a brazo
  sobre este espejo de agua olvidado en el universo
 acompañar el infinito por un frágil fragmento de espacio y tiempo
y luego
a la deriva
navegar

Marco Bo

sipario

quella sera
una qualunque
presso un palcoscenico di periferia
noi rinchiusi vicino ad una luce
ascoltavamo il buio fuori
a volte il buio bussava alla porta
e noi più forte ascoltavamo il silenzio
e noi più forte chiamavamo il passato
e noi più forte guardavamo l'abisso senza timore

perché avevamo già conosciuto il punto caduta
con la faccia con la schiena con i piedi con le mani
e allora
noi
noi
un po' acqua pulita un po' paura
sotto questo grigio cielo di periferia
noi raccontavamo le nostre cicatrici
cicatrici che non importavano
 e non importano a nessuno

a nessuno
ma a noi poco importava e poco importa che non importi
perché siamo noi che apriamo e chiudiamo il sipario
così e la vita
fino a che sei sul palcoscenico
e così lascia che sia
 
non importa se tu sei preda
l'importante è che tu sia
la preda viva
lascia che sia

Marco Bo

 

song for Nicaragua

I'm a daughter and I'm a mother,
I know how hard it is to live from the fruit of the earth
mother earth sacred earth
wet womb that the river floods,
Nicaragua Nicaraguita free and fertile newborn land

I was born in the highlands of Carazo,
 al Cruzero, at the crossroads of the four winds
winds that descend and caress
the hills planted with plane trees and coffee

I'm a daughter and I'm a mother,
I know how hard it is to live from the fruit of the earth
mother earth  blessed earth
 wet womb that the river floods,
Nicaragua Nicaraguita free and fertile newborn land

and life is migration
life is a gentle walk along a sunny trial
and light my steps will take me  home at the end of the day
and light my steps will take me home at the end of the day

I'm a daughter and I'm a mother,
I know how hard it is to live from the fruit of the earth.
mother earth  blessed earth
wet womb that the river floods,
Nicaragua Nicaraguita free and fertile newborn land

I grew up with volcanoes on  my sight
you are never alone with the volcanoes nextby
their presence is sacred their presence is alive
 the lava and ash that caused death once
are now lifeblood of new life

I'm a daughter and I'm a mother,
I know how hard it is to live from the fruit of the earth
mother earth  blessed earth
wet womb that the river floods,
Nicaragua Nicaraguita free and fertile newborn land

sacred maiz and cocoa and sacred the rice of our land
as the sun and our pouring rain
with you I was raised and I feel like being sun,
lava and  lifeblood  of new life

I'm a daughter and I'm a mother,
I know how hard it is to live from the fruit of the earth
mother earth  blessed earth
 wet womb that the river floods,
Nicaragua Nicaraguita free and fertile newborn land

and life is migration
life is a gentle walk along a sunny way
and light my steps will take me home at the end of the day
and light my steps will take me home at the end of the day

Marco Bo

soul gaze

under this grey and lonely suburban sky
looking at a child's face

and imagining as an adult how will it be
 imagining his face, his smile and tears
identifying yourself and breathing to the rhythm of his breathing
like a gust of wind

like a sea wave
like a wave of the sea
looking at the face of an old man
and imagining how it was as a child

 imagining his face, his smile and his tears
identifying yourself and breathing with the rhythm of his breath
like a gust of wind
gust of wind

what a great responsibility lies in a simple gaze
if you pay attention,
 you run the risk of distinctly seeing
 the naked and fragile soul
 just born under this sun, under this moon

 the naked and solitary soul that walks
 among  thousands of anguish and insomnia nights

soul gaze
that hurts and cures at the same time
 that unites and separates us under this pale sun

soul gaze
that  tense thread brittle and fragile
 the sense written, embroidered on everyone face
from the first day until the end
like a gust of wind like sea wave
like a gust of wind like sea wave

Marco Bo