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Rating: January 11, 1999
If I hear the whisper of sand from the palm, falling on the world
it stuns the silence of the deep sky
that swallows the rumble of an emptied land
every wave of rock echoes beneath the steps
but in the dream on the edge
of a sharp mistral
that awakens the thoughts and swells the mind,
a curtain sky that has hidden the stars blooming again on the wave
that has reopened the dances
gentle wave caresses under the reflected bridge
at the crossroads of the winds every cloud has freedom
in the scent of rain, I dream of circles in the sea
and in a moment I hear the words of the heart
while I wait for the rain between the shadows of the day
the eyelids close again on the eternal second
January 11, 2007
Sculptures of wind, mule tracks of the sea, barren hills, theaters of the sun
Normal stories, lives (p)carved, a story narrated… it is never
A Wrong Story
"It's a story to forget
it's a story not to tell
it's a slightly complicated story
it's a wrong story.
It started with the moon in its place
and ended with a river of ink
it's a somewhat predictable story
it's a wrong story.
Different story for normal people
common story for special people
what else do you want from these lives
now that the sky has struck them at the center
now that the sky has carved them at the edges.
It's a suburban story
it's a story from a hit and run
it's a disjointed story
a wrong story.
A beach at the foot of the bed
Termini station at the foot of the heart
a somewhat frantic night
a wrong night.
Different night for normal people
common night for special people
what else do you want from these lives
now that the sky has struck them at the center
now that the sky has carved them at the edges.
It's a story dressed in black
it's a story from the low empire
it's a not so bad cover-up story
it's a wrong story.
It's a story for the police
it's a story for hairdressers
it's a somewhat tarnished story
or it's a wrong story.
Different story for normal people
common story for special people
what else do you want from these lives
now that the sky has struck them at the center
now that the sky has carved them at the edges.
For the mark that remains
don't repeat how sorry you are
don't ask us anymore how it went
you know it's a wrong story
you know it's a wrong story. "
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