Doubt
Heat & say it.
at the chock deer
Let her go.
Trade, the horse
heads, running wild,
in black-and-white
Swallow the crown
The crowned fair
Burn, clean light
The doubt
Once I loved the memories of the mirrors.
Twist on the faith -deep in the caves
Insane, they don't know,
Lips, and words, blind forget.
Like a tra- la- la song
I drifted & dust
Burn your eyes
Deep, tremble
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poem by Luca Menin
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Il Portone
Parlo nello spazio attraverso le mie mani
A un portone chiuso con maniglie di diamante
Dove i tuoi occhi sono le chiavi per entrare.
Dove giaciono giardini, paradisi di questa vita.
Nel tempo che adorna la mia anima
La felicita di nuovi paradisi dietro quell portone giace.
Nei tuoi lunghi viaggi, mentre di guardi riflessa nei miei occhi
Il tuo cuore, immagina chi ti scrive e ama.
Di chi ti pensa, e soffre mentre i tuoi occhi, mi baciano.
Si also e si avvicino lentamente
I suoi occhi immersi, mi affogarono,
Sfiorandondo le mie labbra.
Come una dea dei sogni,
Scesa dal cielo trabbocando nel mio cuore
Strano silenzio, mura che rinchono torri al centro del mio cuore
Ascolta quest echo, di un sogno che cade,
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poem by Luca Menin
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Air blow sad...
Air blow sad from the cloud nest.
At the endless god blesses, and angel splendours,
kiss of beauty; the gazelle vulgar fly
impressed like the empty shells, where tears blow loud,
memories through winging woodlands.
Discreetly revenges, at spells of whispering sounds.
Often quiet, I love the pity of life, grave by the earth irony.
Like a sword duel on the sands,
River of reins and whip mountain,
greedy carry the bright triumph of seas' fist.
Beneath the gullet of the spurts' sky
raising marching vermilion fields'
song of shore, remind me of lilies' reef.
Willow's despairing, ducks wounded of charming autumns.
Could they be mad, drunk by the vine shadow around?
Sobs gardens quite cry, marvellous fireflies shade.
Lantern of the night on the bushes' paws.
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poem by Luca Menin
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Di bianco e nero...
Di Biancho e nero
I ricordi del passato son colorati
Come cineprese mute.
Salpati dalla riva, transportati dalla corrente, sfuocata, ingannata.
Si allontanano,
Come scogli, nei prati marini
Dove le onde sbattono, riemergono
Con aguato silenzioso abbagliano il cuore
Maliconici, si attorcigliano, come spine arrampicanti
Sui rami del tempo
Come un abbraccio di calore
Di una fiamma che brucia e riscalda
La quiete corsa di un bambino, dallo sherzo mattutino
E della madre che accarezza, la fronte addormentata
E ora di svegliarsi Orfeo.
Le lenzuola timide si dimenano, squisite dal corpo tiepido
Vestiti odorano di secchi armadi e lavande fiorite
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poem by Luca Menin
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Mesopotamia
While the thawing of the mountain are turned into a valley.
The soft undulation of the flowing water, shape the terrain & feed the river.
Invigorating roots of domain spirit.
Sunrise and sunset are battled for supremacy on a portrays of fiery rays and rings, creating cylinder seals of flaming mountain views.
The ember from the fire, between the river are burning straws & reeds of enjoyable flavour,
Shape & dimension of heated metal, decapitated antelope fawns & pluck.
Glimpse of monster, Bull man tale, fears creature of the mountains,
Bitter tears of willow trees, slew the rivers.
II
The conquerors of the stolen land, observe the heavens and ship the river of wondrous land and fierce beast, with Wooden vessel of mounds and dirt, reaching the Sea house on the Heaven-Earth.
Fertile crescent, power and glory of buried ruins,
Lyres of ancient tale & artefacts of spiritual forebears, revealing, veiled crumbling mosaic.
Forces were rising.
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poem by Luca Menin
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Revolt
Beware, defection of the populace.
In the murmurs pitchforks square,
Assault the masters thieves
Hang your freedom.
They sold the lands, where the angels stand,
With their crawling hands and bloody stained faces,
Sorrow lives invent their lies for powers and might.
Squeezing freedom of lights, in tunnels of blind sight.
The patience have lost her calm, revolt up rise.
We are the lords, of our worlds, enslaved of comfort and laze.
By the masters' games, on a board of paper and fire.
Of low desire.
Worth like blindfolded eyes on a vessel springboard edge.
Bath of sharks awaiting to jump.
Rip that bandages off from your faces.
Everything awake, desires of freedom penetrate.
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poem by Luca Menin
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Yesterday, Today, Tomorrow
Yesterday.
I lived in the field, where mantis camouflages the blades of grass.
From the sun, trapped like in jars of glass,
Webs, adorn the entrance like a ghostly veil, of wheat field,
Where yellow and black spiders, are guarding the wind mills.
Shy tarragon scent, dig ditches were frog croaks,
And when the rain transmutes the soil in seas.
Mud like quicksand, stole my shoes again.
Birds, bath of laughter, tickling trees of buzzing bees.
The wings of butterflies, of shine golden colours by the wind
Like auroras fluctuates in the air streams.
My hands wither the nets, that want to catch, piece of freedom.
And feel myself, the true worth of Eden's wisdom.
I share my days, between smells of grass soups
And flavour hops, testy grasshopper.
Like explosive, firecrackers of purr, tickle at my feet.
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Word of war
I
Flow of light fragment in the night sky
And my Eyes penetrate far into the eyes of man queuing, Crawling like a lizard cold blood.
Morbid attractive vanity of prostitute mind coupled,
Giving birth to lazy memory of soldier life, and cool blood,
Disappearing warmed-blood.
Enchanting mermaids, locked the red sea.
Flocks of birds in my palate, and nausea and regret.
Body nymph, hungry for rape, orgies of minds.
From the darkness to the altar where the executioner kills,
Brain and heart are to the slaughter.
The eyes are their minds,
Life and Love are only complaints.
II
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poem by Luca Menin
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