Saturday, 5 May 2018

1 Poem by Lidia Chiarelli

Twilight
(Sunset on the hills)

This bread I break was once the oat,
This wine upon a foreign tree
Plunged in its fruit;
Man in the day or wine at night
Laid the crops low, broke the grape's joy…

Dylan Thomas: from “ This bread I break”

Stripes
of red and purple

(marks left by the hand
of an invisible painter)

light up
the vineyards on the hills
on this
long
summer evening.

Only the touch of the wind

rustles every leaf
in a magical dance.

And I

(like an unfinished canvas
or a blank page)

unable to listen to
those soft sounds of another time
will stay and wait
in silence
for the enveloping embrace
of the night.


Bionote 

Lidia Chiarelli (Torino, Italy). Artist and poet, co-founder, with Aeronwy Thomas, of the art-literary Movement Immagine & Poesia.

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