Three Poems by Iolanda Leotta

 

https://www.facebook.com/Jole69

The springtime of my life

I think very intensely 

about the springtime of my life, 

I count frantically all those years,

it’s been a long time.

The journey that leads to eternity goes on.

I remember the smiles of the loved ones,

the desire of endless

and unfulfilled  tenderness.

I wished and received hugs,

I said “I love you” so many times

and heartfelt kisses I gave back.

In spring I was born,

the most beautiful season of life:

the almond trees in bloom, the red poppies 

stretched out towards the sun, 

the healthy air and colored fields, 

the desire of love inextinguishable.

We cry and laugh without a reason,

the rain and the sun and suddenly: 

“the rainbow”.

The "Spring": my favorite concert,

the bike without brakes, 

the handlebars in my hands, 

the desire of floating in the air, like a kite, 

my passion: 

to write poems, secretly, on the walls,

the colour palette splattered with colors

and the desire to paint the dawn, 

the imaginary friends: “Hansel and Gretel”,

the butterflies like fairies, 

blue wings to fly in Eden, the "Paradise lost",

and "the Ark of Noah" with nowhere to go.

In spring I was born,

the most beautiful season of life:

where’s the path! that leads me into the fairy tale 

of "Alice in Wonderland",

the "Prince Charming" that holds my hand, 

the "Wizard of Oz", with his magic,

the granny of “Little Red Riding Hood”

and “Pinocchio’s Blue Fairy".

I'll never see them again.

I invoke you: "Rise!"

meanwhile, with a trembling heart 

I look forward to the next springtime of my life.

Deception

I was young and I knew the deception,

you changed skin, cunning snake,

and you enchanted me, I kept the promise 

of love and was faithful.

I thought you were the sun,

instead, you were the darkness

and you ripped the light out of my eyes;

you wished my downfall,

despicable being,

I didn’t dare to look at your face 

disfigured by anger,

and I waited for my condemnation,

"Làchesi" wrapped at the spindle

the thread of my fate,

for the "Moire", weavers of life,

the hour had come,

But a mighty God pardoned me.

"Medusa" came to my aid,

with his eyes he petrified my enemy

and I escaped death.

Brother! You too were young 

and knew the deception.

"Ate" walked lightly on your head

and you lost your way.

She, young and beautiful, but mad.

You didn’t realize the looming threat

You were driving by a sort of madness,

by misguided love,

When you came to your senses,

you’re horrified and like "Aiace" 

you longed for death, but the "Great Mother"

was moved by compassion,

and you knew another woman.

You cried and I cried too, we thought 

when we were young and naïve 

and didn’t know "Apate", the divinity 

of deception, in those days, roses and flowers 

of thousands of colors bloomed in our garden.

Memories of a lost lover

I met you on the Thames

and I lost you stranger,

the first kiss, the first love,

then starts the game, now it’s over 

and I still hear your crying 

that flows incessantly 

like the waters of the river

and like a sweet torment 

a light dawned upon me 

and the regret come, 

cause I didn’t love you enough.

So compelling, so heartbreaking,

so exciting would have been,

this love ended up shattered,

like a broken glass, and I still hear 

the murmur of your crying.

I met you on the Thames, 

and I saw you again stranger, 

reflected on the river, 

your gaze winking, your suave smile 

and your eyes shiny with tears, 

you and me tightrope walkers, 

reckless and fearless 

and like a sweet torment 

you surface in the mind 

and grow the regret 

cause I didn’t love you enough.

So compelling, so heartbreaking, 

so exciting would have been this love 

turned into ashes, like a blazing fire 

extinguished and I still hear 

the murmur of your crying.