My today's land

Today there's a sun of rain 

that shivers over the long silence

of grays rooftops .

September holds out its hand for alms.

But summer too hurried,passes by ...

My land ,tormented identity 

in so few seasons ,

and a pinch of mist ,

 painting  a sea ...

 A few suitable shores ,

disguised as bizarre dunes,

The south wind wanders 

and seems lost ...

 Flemishe pastiche 

under primitive style .

 Carnival,far beyond Amsterdam ,

Fair where dwarfs and giants ,feast,

without listening the angry call 

of the bell tower ! 

'' By Jove ! offer a mountain 

to the poor sailor drunk 

on evil juniper weed !  ''

My hearth never knows 

where it ends ...

 Perhaps,in this tale 

here below ,

 where beats my heart ?

The north wind ,seeks hair 

to tease and untie ,

  but in vain, there are no forests .

just a plain to complain about ...

It puts waves yearnings 

and vague feelings in my soul...

 Today,I was searching for the scent

of an ancient summer love .

 In the humid heat of Goa beach ?

Or when a poet wrote an ode 

to the white lady,roaming 

 in the sands of Ostia ?

  captive of boundless night birds ...

when tomorrow falls asleep 

to the reveries of my teddy's land ...