Soul thins out
and leaves room for instinct,
a primeval need of possession
and will of power.
The sacrifice of the feeling is an unimportant matter
if the spirit does not survive and abandons
its empty body fluctuating throughout the cosmos.
I desire the contact with a new existence
another conscience,
the friendship with a soul greater than me,
vaster,
or simply different.
Your soul so exotic,
so melodic,
so familiar in the lands which are foreign to me,
so polyhedric,
so alien
while generating emotions and murdering illusions.
Swimming in empty space
among suns and nebulae
picturing constellations and eclipses
is like creating
silly paths on faint tracks,
evocations of unconnected images
and unspoken potential,
trying to rebuild the perfection
lived by the body and the spirit
or perhaps only perceived by fantasy.
I’ve focused on cynical trajectories
traced in air by a carbonic anatomy.
You, alien soul, in our contact
give me tears to drink
and fiery stars to breath.
I gain pains,
for most too heavy to cope with,
teachings nowhere found,
inspiration of worlds not reachable with a body.
I feel eternity flowing through my nerves,
see infinite penetrate my retinae,
hear silence piercing my eardrums
and sense the fulfillment
of my senses, both physical and spiritual.
All this I would write if I knew where,
for it to reach its destination.
For it to bring the new existence here,
in my bare and desert world,
but not sterile.
The new existence
that has already been
and will be again
time after time.
And I’d create gardens,
I’d plant flowers
and I’d take care of fruit trees,
to comfort the stranger spirit,
incommensurable,
for which I reserve a place
for the time that spirit will desire to occupy it.
I wish the focus of reality,
the rawness of the atoned mistakes,
the chance to unmask the truth,
the essence of justness that is simple.
The defeat of pain
passes through the denial of oblivion,
through the acceptance of the written fate
and the rebel revolution against the present day.
Thus I fly along cynical trajectories
traced in air by a carbonic anatomy.
Lorenzo Pace
***
Ringrazio nuovamente Barbara Tassone per la revisione!
***
lo spirito della scala 