The cemetery of the bees

Never have I happened to dutifully
bend to succour a bee ailing
from its days, work done,
sacrifice of a whole life,
nor have I happpened to stumble
upon the remains of one dead because of old age,
illness, thus, I ask myself
where the cemetery of the worker bees might be,
so I might visit them.
And in observing the coming and going therein
I might try to understand, to speak to the guard,
at least find out where they come from, and why,
in the end thank them for the gift they bestow
upon us,
then go away in silence, cautiously,
careful not to tread
a blade of grass, a grave, a flower…

© Copyright 2023 Mauro Giovanelli “Seventy-nine writings or thereabouts”, life, love, death and the usual…” – “Settantanove scritti o giù di lì”, vita, amore, morte, i soliti discorsi…” –

Translation Italian-English: Philip Mc Court.

The other side of Giacomo Leopardi
(Still)

Maybe I should have said something when,
in a low voice you indicated,
carefully, honey remember that I am still
of child-bearing age,
not for any other reason, you know,
it is just that such a fickle word makes me think,
a word uttered in a different way,
and for a different reason,
and the adverbs still and again do not arrest time,
they invoke it,
and it is an imperative while your legs
imprison me with strength never experienced before,
and the instant you push with your pelvis to make
yourself a recipient,
still anchored to each other,
we are a sounding line of this immense sea.

© Copyright 2023 Mauro Giovanelli “Seventy-nine writings or thereabouts”, life, love, death and the usual… second edition – “Settantanove scritti o giù di lì”, vita, amore, morte, i soliti discorsi… seconda Edizione

Tomba bisòma

      Beh, sì, non facile dirlo, spiegarlo
      senza rischiare d’esser fraintesi,
      è che ti prenderei con tale impeto
      da sembrare violenza,
      invece saresti felice,
      tornare al principio,
      come quando non esistevano
      che odori puri e intensi,
      fragranze miste a bestino,
      e mentre le afferro con avidità,
      dalle tue cosce, i glutei,
      sapore acre, pungente
      sale alle mie narici,
      estasi remota mista a erba bagnata,
      muschio, rugiada, ritmi primigeni,
      bagliori fra i rami,
      e tu sei femmina, io maschio,
      e ci vogliamo, mammiferi affamati,
      anche per condividere il resto
      fin oltre la tomba bisòma
      che ci prepariamo.

© Copyright 2023 Mauro Giovanelli – “Affinché morte non ci separi”, poesie d’amore – “Le tessere del pàmpano”, in forma di poesia, 2a Edizione – “Settantanove scritti o giù di lì”, vita, amore, morte, i soliti discorsi… – “Seventy-nine writings or thereabouts”, life, love, death and the usual… – “Pulsionale poesia III Millennio”, l’amore da qui all’eternità 3a edizione.

Bisomus tomb

      Well, yeah, it’s not easy to say, to be explained
      without running the risk of being misunderstood,
      it is just that I would take you with such impetus
      it might seem violence,
      on the contrary you would be happy,
      to go back to the beginning,
      like the time there were only
      pure and intense smells,
      fragrances mixed with stench,
      and while I seize so greedily,
      from your thighs, your buttocks,
      an acrid pungent taste
      rises to my nostrils,
      remote ecstasy blending with wet grass,
      moss, dew, primal rhythms,
      dazzlings amidst the branches,
      and you female, I male,
      and we love each other, famished mammals,
      to share the rest too
      up to and beyond the dual tomb
      we are preparing.

“Seventy-nine writings or thereabouts”, life, love, death and the usual… – “Settantanove scritti o giù di lì”, vita, amore, morte, i soliti discorsi… – Translation Italian-English: Philip Mc Court.

Il tuo spessore

… sai, alla fine una cosa m’è rimasta impressa, non ci crederesti, anch’io fatico a spiegarmi, neppure saprei in che modo descriverlo, o rispondere al perché mi ricordo quel pomeriggio assolato, cicaleccio lontano, luce fredda e tagliente del giorno, insomma voglio dire, tu stavi seduta su un sasso a margine del sentiero, aria sbarazzina, ginocchia unite, piedi divaricati, calzini bianchi, lo sguardo, ma non è questo, è quando ci coricammo sul prato, io ti venni sopra, mai potrò dimenticare il morbido spessore, sì la consistenza del tuo corpo, da quel momento tutto fu chiaro, come una rivelazione che mi avrebbe accompagnato per sempre, la distanza intendo, lo stacco, proprio così, cioè il tuo frapporti, tenermi discosto dal terreno, proteggermi, non è facile dirlo, neppure pretendo d’esser capito, mi riferisco al fatto che esisti, e in virtù di ciò sto separato dall’abisso, sei scudo fra me e l’ultima dimora, la differenza tra la vita e la morte, spero ti giunga il mio pensiero…

© Copyright 2023 Mauro Giovanelli “Pulsionale” Poesia III Millennio – 3a edizione
© Copyright 2023 Mauro Giovanelli “Affinché morte non ci separi” 1a edizione febbraio 2023
© Copyright 2023 Mauro Giovanelli “Settantanove scritti o giù di lì, vita, amore, morte, i soliti discorsi” – “Seventy-nine writings or thereabouts, life, love, death and the usual” – 2a edizione

Your thickness

… you know, in the end one thing remained impressed upon me, you would not believe it, I myself have got difficulty in explaining, and I would not know how to describe it, or to answer why I remember that sunny afternoon, distant babble, cold and cutting light of the day, in a word, I mean, you were sitting to one side on a stone along the path, saucy air about you, knees together, feet outspread, white socks, your look, but this is not the point, it is when we lay down on the grass, I got on top of you, never will I be able to forget the supple volume, yes the substance of your body, from that moment on everything was clear, like a revelation to accompany me for ever, I mean the distance – exactly, i. e. your cushioning position, keeping me detached from the ground, protecting me, it is not easy to say it nor do I expect to be understood, I am referring to the fact that you exist, and thanks to this I am separated from the abyss, you are a shield between me and my final dwelling, the difference between life and death, I hope that my message has got through to you…

© Copyright 2023 Mauro Giovanelli “Seventy-nine writings or thereabouts, life, love, death and the usual” – 2a edizione – “Settantanove scritti o giù di lì, vita, amore, morte, i soliti discorsi” – Translation Italian-English: Philip Mc Court.