The beauty we’ve left behind
I had read a poem and I’ve realised that I grew up.
Adolescence is gone, even recently, in that new phase
of life i’m not able to don’t care anymore, and I start to
take seriously opportunities and occasions. Are years in
which become difficult to jump in new adventures and the
self-confidence sometimes fails.
It’s like walking in the darkness, hoping and praying for
someone who can turn the light on, often the future is not
clear and the sight is blurred, the results and targets are
far from us and the serenity is difficult to be found.
Hymnus ad nocturnum
Ho la calma di un morto:
guardo il letto che attende
le mie membra e lo specchio
che mi riflette assorto.
Non so vincere il gelo
dell’angoscia, piangendo,
come un tempo, nel cuore
della terra e del cielo.
Non so fingermi calme
o indifferenze o altre
giovanili prodezze,
serti di mirto o palme.
O immoto Dio che odio
fa che emani ancora
vita dalla mia vita
non m’importa piu’ il modo.
Pier Paolo Pasolini
