Anthropocene · Poetry

You will move me that day too

Sitting on a rock
in the middle of a field
I was being enfolded
by a dancing gust of wind
turning and whispering
during its stay
then calling the leaves
and going away.

But it wasn’t just a friend
or a travelmate
the background of a painting
or the shaking of a landscape
it was there, and it was energy
the sign of a life
that goes beyond mine.

A warm, vibrating life
of reassuring, solar light
a life that sometimes twirls
with fresh ribbons made of wind
and those brave waterfalls
that dive from the cliffs
in marvelous ponds
while the ocean currents every day
chase each other
in an endless game
and the geothermal warmth
silently heats
the planet like a heart
does with its beats.

… but I am one of those irresponsible
and ungrateful human beings
that ignored so naively
all these energy gifts.
I am one of those tiny brains
who believed they knew it all
and I am one of those tiny lives
who thought every right belonged
to their own interest and pleasure
beyond any considerate measure.
I am one of those, indeed
who exhumated at a dangerous speed
coal, oil and also gas
buried treasures of the past
everything burnt in a blink of an eye
in a nearsighted capricious lifestyle.

…but awakening the dead is not wise
and neither is picking the same flower twice…

And now that the dream belongs to the past
a biased equilibrium is what is left
corpses scattered out of empty graves
new and unknown dangers to face…

What can I say?
What can I do?
I am the guilty to blame
I’m not allowed to complain
I can only stop and look around
then apologize stooping down
in the dustbin I shall throw the claims,
those huge requests that now I must pay
and I shall use, with respectful measure
the gifts spontaneously given by nature.
And in the end I shall listen to the speech
that is gently sung by the gust of wind…

… this gust of wind is messing
my hair and my soul …

This gust of wind says that a piece
of the Great Life
is breathing through me
partly matter and partly soul
being humile and serious shall be my goal
energy is what I took
and what I will return back
the matter I am made of
shall not be wasted
now I am using it, but it’s not mine
and now I feel I can talk
to the Great Life:

You don’t belong to me
I belong to you
one day I’ll come back to your arms
and you will move me that day too.

 

 

 

English version written in October 2016 and shared here. Based on an Italian version written in 2012 and titled Anche quel giorno tu mi muoverai (which literally means exactly You will move me that day too), available here.

waterfall-second
A waterfall in Iceland, picture taken by me in August 2016

 

I also made a few poster versions of this poem, for conferences/exhibitions:

Alice Damiano Artists Among Us 1

CANSEE 2019 poem 1

malmo move me final

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