IRIS VIGNOLA

 

If Music Was My Name...

 

Glad to invent melodies

- like sinuous arrows -

unleashing them on the steep hills,

that meet valleys

and fill rivers and streams

- with the disruptive roar of the water -

and bubbling them to the silent woods,

as if they were innocent caresses...

 

And to pour them on the meadows,

watering their flowers,

so that they know how to sing the whisper of honey,

smell flowing in the wind, of ether, invigorating sigh...

I would try to seek out voluptuous symphonies,

in cohesive agreement,

in the wake of garrenting seagulls.

 

Powerful screeches, in wanting to imitate them,

to dress the breeze, flying over the sea,

giving ease to the notes so that they shape the song

that only it can sing

- with its charming way -

you whisper it to the waves, in their fluctuating

and the sand doesn't still deceives yet,

so that it doesn't end up in the bottom.

 

I would dream of discovering the balance of a harmonious rhythm,

with which to gird myself quickly to shape the score,

to keep it from fading

and vibrate the strings of a piano or a violin,

because they lift me up,

over the white mountains, over the skies,

to donate my notes

to harps played by divine fingers.

 

If Music was my name...

To dance in the celestial sphere,

angelic like none,

in the gushing flow of a thousand assonances...

I would be Sublime Music.

 

SE MUSICA FOSSE IL MIO NOME...

 

Allietata a inventar melodie

- come strali sinuosi -

sprigionandole all'erte colline,

ch'incontrano valli

e riempiono fiumi e torrenti

- col scrosciar dirompente dell'acque -

e gorgogliandole ai boschi silenti,

come fosser carezze innocenti...

 

E a effonderle ai prati,

irrorandone i fiori,

ché sappian cantar il sussurro di miele,

olezzo fluente nel vento,

dell'etere, sospiro corroborante..           

 Proverei a ricercar sinfonie voluttuose,

d'accordi coese,

sulla scia dei gabbiani garrenti.

 

Stridori possenti, nel volerle imitare,

per vestirne la brezza, volando sul mare,

dando agio alle note ché forgino il canto

che sol lui sa intonare

- col suo far fascinoso -

lo sussurri alle onde, in quel lor fluttuare

e illuda ancora la rena,

ché non abbia a finir nel fondale.

 

Sognerei di scoprir l'equilibrio d'un ritmo armonioso,

di cui cingermi in fretta a plasmar lo spartito,

per non farlo sfumare

e vibrarne le corde d'un piano o un violino,

ché mi elevino in alto,

oltre i monti imbiancati, sui cieli,

a donar le mie note

alle arpe suonate da dita divine.

 

Se Musica fosse il mio nome...

Per danzar nella sfera celeste,

angelica come nessuna,

nel flusso sgorgante di mille assonanze...

Sarei Musica Eccelsa.

 

With Heart In Hand

 

Just like a phoenix,   

which rises from its own ashes,

I start flying again,

annihilated by the inclement fire;

the naked remains stretched towards the sky.

 

Vile, life, hunted by death;

she surrendered to her without any struggle.

And, at the moment, I lay stones of hope,

already subtracted by fate

who wanted me to be an innocent victim.

 

I resurrect this castle,

collapsed under gale force winds

before being completed.

I had intended to be its queen,

in the kingdom I aspired to build...

Reign on the throne of love,

on the pedestal, closest to God,

as was prescribed at this time.

Never, of hatred and resentment...

 

I thought I was a favorite flower,

not a leaf withered by pain;

changeable, the color...

It struggles, not to be vehemently torn away,

slammed on the pavement to make a carpet.

 

I thought... I thought, but I was atrociously wrong...

 

With heart in hand,

cruelly ripped from my chest,

still pulsating and intact,

I'm praying to the Father,

that my castle is built in the clouds...

Now it needs a king and his queen.

 

The soul sighs, still longing for life...

One more chance, to proclaim it,

to mock death and redeem itself.

 

COL CUORE IN MANO

 

Come fenice,

che dalle proprie ceneri risorge,

riprendo il volo,

annientata dal rogo d'inclemenza;

la nuda spoglia protesa al cielo.

 

Vile, la vita,  

braccata dalla morte;

le s'è arresa senz'alcuna lotta.

E, al momento,

depongo pietre di speranza,

già sottratta dalla sorte

che m'ha voluta vittima innocente.

 

Riesumo tal castello,

crollato sotto venti di burrasca

prim'ancora d'esser ultimato.

Avevo inteso d'esserne regina,

nel regno ch'ambivo a costruire...

Regnar sul trono dell'amore,

sul piedistallo, più vicina a Dio,

per quant'era prescritto in questo tempo.

Mai, dell'odio e del rancore...

 

Credevo d'esser prediletto fiore,

non foglia inaridita dal dolore;

mutevole, il colore...

S'affanna,  

per non essere strappata con veemenza,

sbattuta sul selciato a far tappeto.

 

Pensavo...  

Pensavo, ma erravo atrocemente...

 

Col cuore in mano,

strappato crudelmente dal mio petto,

ancor pulsante e intatto,

sono a pregare il Padre,

ch'è eretto tra le nubi il mio castello...

Or abbisogna d'un re e la sua regina.

 

Sospira l'ama,

desiando ancor la vita...

Un'altra chance, per conclamare essa,

deridere la morte e riscattar se stessa.

 

IRIS VIGNOLA

 

IRIS VIGNOLA: The author Iris Vignola was born in La Spezia, where she has always lived. Nel fantastico mondo delle fiabe is her collection of twelve stories for children and for those who still love to dream, published in three different editions, with different illustrations. The latest edition is  "Nel fantastico mondo delle fiabe - Into the fantastic world of the fairy tales", enriched with new illustrations, created by the author, in collaboration with her granddaughters Irene and Veronica and in double Italian and English version. Her first poem "A mia madre" is inserted in the anthology of various poets “Poems for a mother”. Her poetry books are "Unico Amore" (the first, written with the poet Horion Enky) - "Non sogno e non realtà" - "Dinanzi a me, c'è solo il mondo" - "Mi voltai... e vidi quel fiore". "Streghe, folletti e fate filastrocche magiche e favole incantate" and "Filastrocche magiche e favole incantate" are two books for children, both in collaboration with Horion Enky. Her fantasy trilogy is "La Stirpe di Luce - Dynasty of Light". The first book is "La scelta di Asaliah - Asaliah's choice" in the Italian and English version.The second book is " Le Origini - The Origins". The third book is “Nephilim: Angelica e demoniaca genesi - Nephilim: Angelic and demoniac genesis”. Some of her lyrics are published in more anthologies of various poets, made solely for charitable purposes.