How to describe the stillness of these waters
How to describe the stillness of these waters?
in the warm light of the early evening in May
with an occasional splash of a fish
sparkling its silver fins
above the greenish mirror surface,
reflecting the trees images
growing thickly along the banks.
The first warm days of the new Spring,
the first Spring in the 21st century,
the first Spring in the new millenium,
that my whole life,
all my experiences,
have gone down
the 20th century -
No, they have stayed
in me and with me -
On a day like this
you don't want to argue with anyone
in your mind,
you don't want to remember
there are no people around
and very few in the whole park,
so that I may forget
about the angry movements of my mind
for a while...
I'm thinking about my early teens
and about England.
Will the love of my youth come back to me?
Will the delightful scent of England
stay in my sensual memory?
The crows are croaking...
If everything should mean something
this certainly means something.
In the meanwhile
the river brings the adours of gardenia.
I'm writing this entirely for myself,
without caring about the style,
without a back thought
of ever showing this to anyone.
I find it terrific not to have an imaginary reader
always raising his ironical eyebrow
or shrugging his I-don't-care-a-straw shoulder...
I find it amusing not to talk to anyone at all in my mind,
not to share my thoughts -
who would understand them anyway?
except my brother
or my first love
who will stay ideal
for ever and ever,
because he has lived his life
with someone else...
May 1, 2001
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