Ivan Dobnik - Vilenica

72 · Pierluigi Cappello
Coming back
The feet have brought the joy of the imprints
your little feet in the snow, children
in the smell of rubber boots
black red blue where the climb begins
where the descent of the sledges ends
to bend into the memory, I bend in the memory
our feet jointly jumping in the snow
of when looking up at the sky was a greater fantasy
true the truth of things touched
I probably was at this hour, I probably was many times
far away like at this hour, a voice within my voice
an eye within my renewed eye
a hand mine and new in the whiteness of my hand.
May 2002
Whiteness
From afar come to the eyes the sky
and the hands, from some distant part of you;
outside it snows, you are all in the white of the snow
every mark in the spotlessness a wound
and the country on the other side of the window panes is a body
a short glance which becomes enunciation
the warmth of breath, the head in the middle of wakefulness;
get back there, into the word translated in silence
where sparrows nest
hands on the eyes, chest on the knees
the forehead in the snow.
February 2003