Poesie inserite da Silvana Stremiz

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I rose - because He sank -
I thought it would be opposite -
But when his power bent -
My Soul grew straight.
I cheered my fainting Prince -
I sang firm - even - Chants -
I helped his Film - with Hymn -

And when the Dews drew off
That held his Forehead stiff -
I gave him -
Balm - for Balm -

I told him Best - must pass
Through this low Arch of Flesh -
No Casque so brave
It spurn the Grave -

I told him Worlds I knew
Where Emperors grew -
Who recollected us
If we were true -

And so with Thews of Hymn -
And Sinew from within -
And ways I knew not that I knew - till then -
I lifted Him.

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Our journey had advanced -
Our feet were almost come
To that odd Fork in Being's Road -
Eternity - by Term -
Our pace took sudden awe -
Our feet - reluctant - led -
Before - were Cities - but Between -
The Forest of the Dead -

Retreat - was out of Hope -
Behind - a Sealed Route -
Eternity's Cool Flag - in front -
And God - at every Gate.

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In falling Timbers buried -
There breathed a Man -
Outside - the Spades - were plying -
The Lungs - within -
Could He - know - they sought Him -
Could They - know - He breathed -
Horrid Sand Partition -
Neither - could be heard -

Never slacked the Diggers -
But when Spades had done -
Oh, Reward of Anguish,
It was dying - Then.

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They shut me up in Prose -
As when a little Girl
They put me in the Closet -
Because they liked me "still" -
Still! Could themself have peeped -
And seen my Brain - go round -
They might as wise have lodged a Bird
For Treason - in the Pound -

Himself has but to will
And easy as a Star
Look down upon Captivity -
And laugh - No more have I.

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It would have starved a Gnat -
To live so small as I -
And yet, I was a living child -
With Food's necessity
Upon me - like a Claw -
I could no more remove
Than I could modify a Leech -
Or make a Dragon - move -

Not like the Gnat - had I -
The privilege to fly
And seek a Dinner for myself -
How mightier He - than I!

Nor like Himself - the Art
Upon the Window Pane
To gad my little Being out -
And not begin - again -

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I see thee better - in the Dark -
I do not need a Light -
The Love of Thee - a Prism be -
Excelling Violet -
I see thee better for the Years
That pile themselves - between -
The Miner's Lamp - sufficient be -
To nullify the Mine -

And in the Grave - I see Thee best -
It's little Panels be
Aglow - All ruddy - with the Light
I held so high, for Thee -

What need of Day -
To Those whose Dark - hath so - surpassing Sun -
It deem it be - Continually -
At the Meridian?

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You'll find - it when you try to die -
The Easier to let go -
For recollecting such as went -
You could not spare - you know.
And though their places somewhat filled -
As did their Marble names
With Moss - they never grew so full -
You chose the newer names -

And when this World - sets further back -
As Dying - say it does -
The former love - distincter grows -
And supersedes the fresh -

And Thought of them - so fair invites -
It looks too tawdry Grace
To stay behind - with just the Toys
We bought - to ease their place -

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Years - had been - from Home -
And now - before the Door -
I dared not open - lest a face
I never saw before
Stare vacant into mine -
And ask my Business there -
My Business - just a Life I left -
Was such - still dwelling there?

I fumbled at my nerve -
I scanned the Windows o'er -
The Silence - like an Ocean rolled -
And broke against my Ear -

I laughed a Wooden laugh -
That I - could fear a Door -
Who Danger - and the Dead - had faced -
But never shook - before -

I fitted to the Latch - My Hand -
With trembling Care
Lest back the Awful Door should spring -
And leave me - in the Floor -

I moved my fingers off, as cautiously as Glass -
And held my Ears - and like a Thief
Stole - gasping - from the House -

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Paura! Di chi ho paura?
Non della Morte - perché chi è Costei?
Il Portiere della casa di mio Padre
Allo stesso modo m'intimidisce!
Della Vita? Sarebbe strano ch'io temessi una cosa
Che è parte integrante di me
In una o due esistenze -
A seconda del caso -

Della Risurrezione? Ha l'Est
Paura di affidare al Mattino
La sua fronte schizzinosa?
Tanto varrebbe ricusare la mia Corona.

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Una mano sognante

Dita
fra le dita,
emozioni incantate
da emozioni sognanti.

Gesta
di umili gesta,
il tuo viso sulle punte,
una briciola alle labbra,
una carezza tra i capelli.
Sogni,
piccoli sogni,
di una mano
sognante nella notte.