Smoke and blood without pity

over the Balkan houses

tears without end

for a peace that lacks

that seems impossible

Cawing crows fly

over the towers

and laughing

they strew with pitch

the hashes of childish memories

Picks up shreds of dusty rubble

Mother despair

and strong white wings take off

from her rough hands

weeping joy and ache

Souvenir from yugoslavija, selene edizioni 1997

There is no pain in the Mother's heart

no reproach in her eye's slits

but an acute silent cry rends the universe

her sweetness is a promise

her submission a pray

and from her outstretched hands

departs the big white bird

He will fly higher and higher...

     she might not be present

     but he will bring back

     down here

     a dawn of shine

     of thousand colours

     and without pains

     And will give it to her

     blowing a light kiss

     on her brow

le ali ferite

dic.2000