ESTER CECERE

ESTER CECERE 

THE SKIN IS A DRESS

The skin is a dress.

When it is pale and by ephelis spotted

it is worn among Nordic fiords,

it smells of high snow firs,

it is painted by boreal colors.

Mediterranean people

put on the olive dress.

It reminds superb olive trees,

the dry and bare countryside,

lizards in sheltered recesses.

Some people wear the amber dress

which sometimes may also be brownish.

It is sprayed of desert sand by Ghibli.

It is sprinkled by air drops from atolls.

It is spattered by temple red sandstone.

Many persons use the black dress.

It may be shiny or mat on the face.

It is brightened by white pearls.

It is inspired to precious ebony.

It is suitable to yellow savannas.

It is suitable to superb holy baobab.

The dress always protects

rippling or weak muscles,

networks of cartilages and tendons,

the same maze of veins

which convey the blood to the heart.

Blood is always red.

Tears are always salty.

Whatever the dress color is.

(from “Non vedo, non sento e…” (“I do not see, I do not hear and...”)

WIP Ed., Bari, 2017) 

TELL ME GOD, ANSWER ME ALLAH

Tell me God,

who is right?

Answer Allah,

where is the wrong?

Is it perhaps in the motionless faces

whitened by dusty rubble of unaware children?

Is it perhaps in the astonished faces

by red lines marked of innocent creatures?

Explain to me God,

what is an ethnic group?

Tell me Allah,

why is there so much hate?

It’s huge the absurdity

of a feud which bleeds

for so young cut down livings

that even the death

has difficulty to bring with it.

(from “Non vedo, non sento e…” (“I do not see, I do not hear and...”) WIP Ed., Bari, 2017)

THE SCREAM

Tears corrode the marble heart

like acid does.

In the desert of grief

the petrified soul

is silent.

Only mind’s shout

shatters the still silence.

(from: “Burrasche e Brezze” (“Storms and Breezes”), Il Filo, Rome, 2010)

ESTER CECERE