Maggio

With this post, everything is going to be a little bit different. The new chapter appears in my book.The melody so connected with every written word. Every night in late summer nights will be always in my heart.

Thank you Ludovico for showing me a path to my secret life. 

 

Oasis of solitude

My little window turned into a magical door that took my eyes to a different world. The Piano song with the bird’s voice creates an unforgettable concert for my dying senses.A musical concert with the heavenly pleasure, but at the same time deep inside the Arabian dry desert wind, goes through my soul and turns the life-giving leaves into almost burning ashes! Is there any hope for the drying heart, for the lonely camel in the middle Yemeni wilderness? 

It is time to close the little window and put the blue pillow underneath my already half dreaming head.

.....

Wyczekujesz tego jedynego listu, tego jedynego zdania z odpowiedzią. Cóż tego ze każdego dnia z wielka nadzieje sprawdzasz czy te słowa zostały do Ciebie napisane. Za każdym razem pustka i bolesne omdlenie. Osamotniony tak jakby na bezludnej wyspie oczekujesz wiadomości która rozbudzi jeszcze bardziej to tęskniące pragnienie

....

You felt like an animal wounded in both legs.

Supposedly you walked so proudly through your twisted path by a strange life. However, you collapsed and laid down in complete stagnation.  You wanted to raise your hand, but could not do it.  Only your eyes were looking ahead and in the pure silence, begging for mercy appearing on the azure the winged reflections.

You were like the God dreamer, but have become a worthless thinker.

You recall in your mind only times spent close to the river with the wind and the unique glare that appears only in the silent night. There are still in your head this green bench and the glade painted in the colours of rainbow’s flakes.

Maybe one day you will run ahead and you will find the green bench again?

Broken wings

Poczułeś się jak postrzelone zwierze w nogę. Niby szedłeś tak dumnie przez swą zakręconą życiem drogę, a jednak padłeś tak nagle i leżałeś w bezruchu. Chciałeś podnieść rękę a nie mogłeś. Jedynie oczy spoglądały przed siebie i w milczeniu błagały o litość pojawiających się na błękicie ptaków skrzydlate odbicie.

Byłeś marzycielem, a stałeś się bezwartościowym myślicielem. 

Wspominasz już tylko chwilę spędzone nad rzeką w towarzystwie wiatru i pojawiającego się tylko nocą tego jedynego blasku. Jest jeszcze w Twej głowie ta zielona ławka i polana pomalowana jakby  w kolorach tęczowych płatków.

Może jeszcze kiedyś pobiegniesz przed siebie i usiądziesz na swej zielonej lecz calkiem nowej ławce.

Love generation

Through words in this letter and warm thoughts I would like to wish you calm and sunny days this Easter.

This emptiness that filled the distance between two of us, sometimes scares me. From one hand side I want to make the little light in the dark tunnel to appear but I don't know how.

Despite I am not talking to you, it does not mean I am not thinking of you, that I am not coming back in my memories to warm spring days that were also warm for both of us

Life is like a speeding locomotive that I wish to stop one day on the small train station in the middle of the green forest. Stop the train and fall in love within the silence around. 

Start the conversation with the same moon that accompanied me every night in my garden while I was talking to you. But this is unreachable at least for now.

A few days ago I heard the same song that quite often I had been listening, writing all letters to you in late May nights. Memories, thoughts and longing came back for the unique state of mind. Not to mentioned the evening walks in Southern France.