Nelle Tue Mani

 

Padre Clementissime,

nelle Tue mani

 rimetto

 il mio spirito.

. . .

 

Reverend Phillips Brooks

The hopes and fears of all the years are met in thee tonight. 

Psalm

 

Where could I go from Your Spirit?

Or where can I flee from Your presence?

If I ascend into heaven, You are there.

If I make my bed in hell, behold You are there.

If I take the wings of the morning, and 

dwell in the uttermost parts the sea...

even there

Your hand shall lead me

Your right hand shall hold me...

Rumi

 Cruel autumn has arrived!

The rose's red dress is torn

the willow's branches have dropped

repenting for missed prayers.

The lily has drawn her sword

the jasmine is shielded ready to fight.

The nightingale

jealous of the rose's admirers

suffers in silence.

The trees lifting their arms in despair

wonder why the buds are hidden

and who has broken the violets' back.

Cruel autumn has arrived but behold

the hope of spring for whatever

autumn destroys spring will replenish.

All this talk of roses, nightingales, and gardens

is only a screen I hide behind

because Love is jealous.

En Tránsito

 

Written On A Stone

 

Shrouded in twiddling thorny twigs

I climb onto the fire

In the name of the LORD