Poetry

*** Before the night falls, A process above thought - I see the ballerina’s leg move, Ideas don't occur In abstract form, They come in bodies. The moment when the…

*** Snow is a blank blanket, A clean canvas, Obscuring what lies beneath it, Snow is a poem of the air. Snow was my first material For sculpture From early…

*** Something rather private, For reasons that are mysterious, Nothing but small waves In the sea of speeches. Nature as witness of freedom, And nature as verification of failure, Will…

*** With bright petals and bitter-sweet scents, you body lures insects (and scorpios) to your pollen-filled centers. Over millions of years, you evolved into a transparent flowering plant producing blooms…

*** From the minute the curtain is down To the first sunrise plié, I’m captivated as you, alone, Dream with numerous pas de deux. La Serenissma all'antica, My unacting protagonist,…

*** Before you began to exist in me As a face, as a form, as a will, You were a word, Which from the depths of my dreams Gave its…

*** The white of innocence, Of canals for eternity, The white of swans, Of swearing fidelity, The white of love to you, My Birdperson, The white of sea foam Is…

*** She paints a garden, In which she doesn’t depict rose bushes, But the mountains behind it, Bird sounds and windowless attics. She paints with so much words The tongue…

*** This absence reappears. The absence that makes the rest exist. Your traces are present, In order to keep The windows open, and me - Gruff and still. Something has…