Lost in the Great Sea

Lost in the Great Sea

Away, I see you going away,
a tiny speck on the horizon by now,
lost in the great sea, lost

Your vessel appearing and disappearing
beneath the waves of the sea, so far away I see you
come back home soon, back in my arms soon

away, I see you going away,
away from my heart, into the unknown,
towards distant lands, far away

A wish by C.G. Rossetti

I wish I were a little bird
that out of sight doth soar;
I wish I were a song once heard
But often pondered o’er,
Or shadow of a lily stirred
By wind upon the floor,
Or echo of a loving word
Worth all that went before,
Or memory of a hope deferred
That springs again no more.

Aine's Ballad

Red, yellow, orange,
brown, golden leaves,
fall from the trees
they bring to the mind
of the young man
the days when he met her in the woods

Through the trees he saw something moving
to his delight a fairy appeared
sparkling lovely magical damsel
never had he seen such a thing

'Aine's my name' she introduced herself,
Like a ray of golden summer sunshine,
emerging from colored autumn leaves
She’s the soul of the enchanted forest

Though his days of youth are so distant now
He still tends to the big golden forest
The old man walks chasing evil away
Wandering through a long way to go

Song by C.G. Rossetti

She sat and sang alway
By the green margin of a stream,
Watching the fishes leap and play
Beneath the glad sunbeam.

I sat and wept away
Beneath the moon’s most shadowy beam,
Watching the blossoms of the May
Weep leaves into the stream.

A sparkle of this mysterious universe

Watching the sky, you and I lying here,
on a bed of emerald green

At night, among the stars,
it’s so cold, but you’re my warmth.

In this endless march into the unknown,
like the light of dead stars,
we’re a sparkle, a little sparkle
of this mysterious universe

TO AUTUMN by W. Blake

O Autumn, laden with fruit, and stained
With the blood of the grape, pass not, but sit
Beneath my shady roof; there thou may'st rest,
And tune thy jolly voice to my fresh pipe,
And all the daughters of the year shall dance!
Sing now the lusty song of fruits and flowers.

“The narrow bud opens her beauties to
The sun, and love runs in her thrilling veins;
Blossoms hang round the brows of morning, and
Flourish down the bright cheek of modest eve,
Till clust'ring Summer breaks forth into singing,
And feather'd clouds strew flowers round her head.

“The spirits of the air live on the smells
Of fruit; and joy, with pinions light, roves round
The gardens, or sits singing in the trees.”
Thus sang the jolly Autumn as he sat;
Then rose, girded himself, and o'er the bleak
Hills fled from our sight; but left his golden load.

The Traveler

Fluttering brocades, golden and crimson, swaying of braids, diadems and dreams,
dancing joyfully all through the night,
gems and silk and oriental spices

round we dance
round we dance
gleaming of candles

round we dance
round we dance
the past is past

Through travelers’ tales I travel too,
tales of strange, distant worlds

Empires of jade, oriental horizons, dark, black mysterious eyes.
Brave merchants through deserts and mountains, miles and miles to reach this court


I saw in your eyes a reflection of me, a feeling so deep.
Mother, daughter.

I'll care for you more than I ever was before.
We live in symbiosis and I hope to never leave you.

Proserpina by D.G.Rossetti

LUNGI è la luce che in sù questo muro
Rifrange appena, un breve istante scorta
Del rio palazzo alla soprana porta.
Lungi quei fiori d'Enna, O lido oscuro,
Dal frutto tuo fatal che omai m'è duro.
Lungi quel cielo dal tartareo manto
Che quì mi cuopre: e lungì ahi lungi ahi quanto
Le notti che saràn dai dì che furo.

Lungi da me mi sento; e ognor sognando
Cerco e ricerco, e resto ascoltatrice;
E qualche cuore a qualche anima dice,
(Di cui mi giunge il suon da quando in quando.
Continuamente insieme sospirando,)—
“Oimè per te, Proserpina infelice!”


AFAR away the light that brings cold cheer
Unto this wall,—one instant and no more
Admitted at my distant palace-door.
Afar the flowers of Enna from this drear
Dire fruit, which, tasted once, must thrall me here.
Afar those skies from this Tartarean grey
That chills me: and afar, how far away,
The nights that shall be from the days that were.

Afar from mine own self I seem, and wing
Strange ways in thought, and listen for a sign:
And still some heart unto some soul doth pine,
(Whose sounds mine inner sense is fain to bring,
Continually together murmuring,)—
“Woe's me for thee, unhappy Proserpine!”

The Garden of the Hesperides


My life was quite, daily sadness, some joyful conquest.
I was so much tired,
But so young
My man was already cold
And life was just routine
I thought to be hopeless but then
You came

In your eyes my past lives,
Thousands of fireflies in my heart

We spent many love hours
From sunset to sunrise
Having pizza and red wine for dinner in my small car
I remember that day on the sand
Branches as swards
We were knights of other times
Struggling for love
In your eyes my past lives,
Thousands of fireflies in my heart

You looked my eyes
You need me so much and I could not resist your touch
No, I could not resist your touch
We would live forever
Hesperos' watching on us and I could not resist your touch
No, I could not resist your touch

The Magnificence of the Night

The lyric is a passage from Women in love by David Herbert Lawrence (1885-1030). It talks about a night of love

The car stopped.
"We will stay here ", he said, "and put out the lights. "
He extinguished the lamps at once, and it was pure night,
with shadows of trees like realities of other nightly beings.
He threw a rug on to the bracken, and they sat in stillness and mindless silence.
There were faint sounds from the wood,
but no disturbance, no possible disturbance,
the world was under a strange ban,
a new mystery had supervened.
They threw off their clothes, and he gathered her to him,
and found her, found the pure lambent reality of her
forever invisible flesh.
Quenched, inhuman, his fingers upon her unrevealed nudity were the fìngers of silence upon silence,
the body of mysterious night upon the body of mysterious night.

Rime Glitters in the Sun

A mild wind blows from the far east
Hawks draw the sky with circles
There 're cloud flakes on the mountains which are covered with snow
Silvery olive trees bend under the gentle touch of wind
The rime glitters in the sun and I 'm breathing life.

The Warm Whisper of the Wind

You shook the cypresses top curled the see waves
Filled the air with the scent of orange blossom and wisteria
Ruffled up the ears of wheat rocked the nests
On the branches in the woods
And blew the clouds in the sky
You docilely carried them
And whit you my thought travels
Through the day and the night

Elettra's Lullaby

It’s getting dark, in the world outside
all the stars are twinkling for you

You lay down on a bed of roses
your cover is made of colourful feathers

Serene, happily, you sleep

The night is warm, fragrant with jasmine
a nightingale sings your lullaby

Don’t worry about the night, it won’t harm you
my little Elettra, sweet baby fairy.


The Veil of Queen Mab

The Veil of Queen Mab

The Fairy Appears

Here she is.
She approaches, closer and closer,
on her chariot,
made of one single pearl,
drawn by four dragonflies,
four jewels that slipped out of
a fairy-like woman’s bosom.

Queen Mab

Queen Mab has been with me
She’s the fairy’s midwife
and she comes in a shape no bigger than that of a precious stone
but by far brighter.
She colours my nights
and feeds my dreams.
When my heart goes barren,
my eyes dull, the sky grey,
the day short, the mind blind,
the throat silent…
Oh then she comes!

Help me to defeat the obscure power,
which clouds my sight.
Struggles at my side against sadness.

El Velo Azul

Entonces la reina Mab, del fondo de su carro hecho de una sola perla,
tomó un velo azul, casi impalpable.

Y aquel era el velo de los dulces sueños
que hacen ver la vida de color de rosa.

Un velo formado de suspiros,
o de miradas de ángeles
envolvió a los cuatro artistas
que cesaron de estar tristes.

Then the queen Mab, from the bottom of her chariot, made of one single pearl, took a blue, almost impalpable veil.

And that one was the veil of sweet dreams, that make life appear rose-colored.

A veil weaved out of sighs, or out of angels’ gazes, wrapped the four artists, who ceased being sad.

Moon Spell

Circa primam ferme noctis
vigiliam experrectus
pavore subito,
video praemicantis lunae
candore nimio completum orbem
commodum marinis emergentem fluctibus

There were the first hours of the night when,
taken by a sudden fear,
I woke with a start and saw the full moon in its maximum splendour,
emerging from the sea waves.

Summatem Deam

Nanctusque opacae noctis silentiosa secreta,
certus etiam summatem deam
praecipua maiestate pollere resque prorsus
humanas ipsius regi providentia

Favoured by the silent mystery of the obscure night,
all of a sudden I was aware of the sovereign power of the supreme goddess,
whose divine providence governs all human events

Diadem of the Night

Diadem of the night
So is the moon
A precious stone
Her round heart is a womb
Holding a timid light
She’s pale, silky, stretches out her fingers
Reaches you, caresses your face
Icy softness, illusive feeling
The fullness of a moment whose memory is already almost gone.

Mea luna lux mearum tenebrarum (My moon, light of my darkness)

Summoning of the Artists

From the darkness of the night, travelling as in flight, I reached the plateau.
I had crossed the grassy plain surrounded by mountains, silent spaces,
sense of freedom and awe.

Musica magica, magia eterea, musica magica, magia eterna.

My companion awaited me to stop the time.
We began our rite.
Our hearts becoming lighter and lighter, as the everyday loads were fading away.
The wind carried our music. The moment became eternal.
We were wind, we were light, we were space, we were the sky…

A Reason to Live

Yes, I too am among those that sometimes lose themselves in the dark night,
while searching for a light.
It isn’t easy, I fail to find it, oh no…
A reason to live, a reason for the heart.

Le Lacrime di Proserpina (poetry by Alda Merini)

Sono nata il ventuno a primavera
ma non sapevo che nascere folle,
aprire le zolle
potesse scatenar tempesta.
Così Proserpina lieve
vede piovere sulle erbe,
sui grossi frumenti gentili
e piange sempre la sera.
Forse è la sua preghiera.


I was born in spring the twenty first
not knowing that to be born insane,
to open the turfs
a tempest could unchain.
And thus gentle Proserpina
sees rain fall upon the grasses,
upon the large gentle wheat
and always weeps at night.
Perhaps it is her prayer.

A Forest

Alone in the forest, I can hardly breathe.
The moon beams come through branches in this unreal light,
everything is suspended in an eternal moment.
The spider tiptoes, the moth flutters its wings,
the resin trickles and some drops of rain fall from the fir trees.
The leaves crackle under my footsteps
and the mystery of life and of night becomes tangible,
but I have no fear.
You take my hand and wrap me softly.
Never a kiss was more sweet, a passion more ardent.
Slowly you seep into my body and I slip away smoothly.

Time of Spirit

We were in a wood at night alone
When by moonlight we saw a Spirit walking
He talked to us, we heard a strange story
Only love can cure his old hurt soul


Por ver si me consolaba,
arriméme a un pino verde.
Por ver si me consolaba.

Por verme llorar, lloraba.
Y el pino como era verde.
¡Por verme llorar, lloraba!


To see whether it would console me,
I drew near a green pine.
To see whether it would console me.

Seeing me weep, it wept.
And the pine, how green it was.
Seeing me weep, it wept!