Asmahan

By Edda Tassi

Luckily in the ancient times too there were the just , the wise , the enlightenment , some free woman , in the middle of wars of the powerful in delirium.

• Language: English
• Publisher: BookBaby
• Release date: Aug 23, 2018
• ISBN: 9780992019976

Book preview

Giotto

1

How much luck is necessary

to turn suddenly

in bottom to the painted landscape

and to enter without noise

in the field of the miracles!

How many errors fixed , canceled

for living to the free luck again

with the blackbird behind the hawthorn.

Hello , hanged men over the hill

hanging from the high trees!

I cannot untie the rope.

I can’t waste time with you.

2

I prepare myself for the red century

velvet on the nordic forest

where the noble elk plays with his puppies.

Silk powder toward South

under the sun and the hungry lion.

Who was I? Do you remember it?

Oh , no matter ,that’s better.

Someone will know me now

in the boundless Russia of the czars

thinking to have in front a ghost.

Look at my open hand

at the mysterious line

of an uncertain origin

as the furrows of the life!

Admire the blue dress

that stands out audacious

while around it darkens slowly

and dies.

3

When the electrical contact stops

and the skin of the metropolis chaps

as it had a corrosive leprosy

don’t dream to rob banks

and overflowing with delicacies markets

but run away to the forest of the plane trees!

Tread on the dry leaves , sink your feet

stumble , and a tree will capture you

in its dug trunk as a deep cavern.

You will speak with the little man

of the secular silence

not infected from the bad breath

of the greenish dragon of the iron railway.

He’s kind to those who understand

the language of the mud , the wood

and the game of the powder.

When you’ll be going back home

you will have a different breath

as of alive thing.

4

The raiders of the desert without sand

greedy in their grim cloaks

tease the mummer Semplicione

christened also with the name Pacione.

For good fate Eros is elsewhere

hidden from the world , sealed

in the house of the answers without questions.

The loves are born so at random

where none goes looking for them

between the smile and the cry

among the spores of an ancient plant

that rarely gives a delicate flower

and never a fruit that satisfies fully.

5

As a turned tape

I’m here , still at the beginning.

But it isn’t true.

As before

they hate my rich harmony

and they prepare deadly traps

that snap upon them.

So sad is who cannot

show himself at its fountain

and mirror lovingly

unmindful of another’s madness

that flows into the sky as a tornado!

Let the longest sleep

welcomes you with its stench.

When you will wake up

watch on up beyond the mausoleums

and you will see me again

uncatchable.

So much pathetic envy for nothing

against a smooth fluvial stone

that slips on its transformations

toying deep.

6

There’re so many murder victims

in the truculent Rome

that’s natural , step by step

there’s a church , an altar

an avenging angel armed

and the pitiful priests , the nuns

that aid those exausted stop.

Here we learn to lie

from the bad , cynical people

that spit on salt and earth

believing that never will come

the sweet nun with the sharpened scythe.

It’s an ordinary day in the city

when I see in a dream

the funny spatial devourer.

If your ears are ringing

it’s for his step

that ultrasonic resounds.

7

I’m the prisoner

behind the rusted net

in company of ants and cetonies

from the white garden

to the vegetable garden

emerald green . I

portrayed

as the most beautiful thing in the world.

I remember

the distance backwards

now that I abandoned it

and I wander for great estates.

Continuous escapes and returns

to reach here , as follower

of aligned planets , above

careless , fixed

with their wide eyes like pearls.

Perhaps I’d like to stay

in this space

that disappears with