All night
On the neural paths, have rushed - shiny -
The shapes of the world, yearning for
Scepters of mountains
And valleys and rivers of ice
And prairies and lakes and forests, endlessly.
Yet it would not be the lone musk ox or
Herds of bison wandering through the boundless
Northwest Territories,
Neither the plump geese lined up in a
'V' formation
High
In a porcelain sky
Overhanging the glaciers (less and less
Mighty, alas) of Wrangell - St. Elias,
To get you back to life..
(2013)
Copyright © Fabrizio Frosini - All rights reserved
thank you, dear Sahra and also thanks for answering positively to my invitation: we are already 37 poets at the moment - and I'm sure others will join us soon Our Anthology ''POETRY AGAINST TERROR'' will be an ebook before Christmas! :)
The notes of your friend and your answer would be a nice key for any translation I would attempt.I congratulate you for your notes on many poems of you.I do the same on someof mines.In Mycenae [memory dots] I thought they were necessary to understand it.
I'll tell you, Dimitrios, it was Daniel to 'press' on me.. and I finally wrote the notes.. Indeed, for almost all of my life I wrote poetry for my eyes only.. :)