Yesterday, Today, Tomorrow
I lived in the field, where mantis camouflages the blades of grass.
From the sun, trapped like in jars of glass,
Webs, adorn the entrance like a ghostly veil, of wheat field,
Where yellow and black spiders, are guarding the wind mills.
Shy tarragon scent, dig ditches were frog croaks,
And when the rain transmutes the soil in seas.
Mud like quicksand, stole my shoes again.
Birds, bath of laughter, tickling trees of buzzing bees.
The wings of butterflies, of shine golden colours by the wind
Like auroras fluctuates in the air streams.
My hands wither the nets, that want to catch, piece of freedom.
And feel myself, the true worth of Eden's wisdom.
I share my days, between smells of grass soups
And flavour hops, testy grasshopper.
Like explosive, firecrackers of purr, tickle at my feet.
The sky is brillo red, of crickets singing sonnet,
While tree of beetles accompanies the moments.
Of nocturnal melodies, and mosquito nuisance.
And from where I'm now, the murmured of the distant moon.
Call the last breath of the afternoon,
The smell of the dinner flavour, of family seating around the table
rejoices & delight the night, of a past day in paradise.
Flow engine takes me away,
where I share my solitude and grace my sorrow.
I'm not felt to rhyme anymore, cast away on this metal wall.
A faraway look at the clouds, porthole of this ship sealing the sky
I m living behind, like Adam cast away from paradise, by my own choices.
Land, of comfortable building, and dark colours
Of rain cement ways.
Like passage of hells on streets' laments.
To search the light, of my new piece of paradise
Stolen by the city life.
Like angel down from the sky
With its wings, my heart of hope has kissed.
Of reassurance, no more this place, seems oppressive.
Colours drawing, feeling outlines of an aimless picture
Reviving dead desires.
This night, the moon called again the same afternoon breath.
That I left in yesterday sonnet.
Seat at the table, now the smell of grass soup
Console my appetite, and the love of my child
My lost piece of paradise.
I close my eyes where angels suffer.
Away from home, their wings have lost.
Falls gentle in cushions of gardens, prayer had saved them.
As I prayed for my today, I will pray for my tomorrow.
Arms are raised, adoring the sky vastness might.
Searching to touch, the languid life of the time passing by.
So fast so near, lost faraway impregnable days.
That what life has left you today.
I can, t imagine; I cannot control, my tomorrow world.
Like a shipwreck in the storm, left on the seas to float.
In a faith dock. survive
In a land of hells, on islands of paradise,
My tomorrow revealed to me, the day that I die.
Luca Menin's Other Poems
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(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(26 April 1564 - 23 April 1616)
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
(7 May 1861 – 7 August 1941)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(13 February 1879 - 2 March 1949)
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