Weihnachten
To my father and mother
Christmas
I have no nostalgic memories of my Christmas
as a child
Christmas
bitter
with an intense perfume
of bitter almonds
crinkled in brown sugar
Dark
with the sweetest bread made of nuts
and raisins and rejuvenated
with thick must
Aphrodisiac
with spices
with cinnamon
with cloves
Warm
with thick vapours of boiled vegetables
of crackling fries
of breath stuck to the windows
Silvery
with moving stands of street markets
full of nomads who are now stable,
slippery eels and precious simple sea foods
Perfume of moss and cork
a happy Christmas
with Carols, lullabies,
and little jumping candle flames
I don't miss this Christmas
because it is closed
into my adult mind
in my hands of a woman
in the most intimate corner
of my heart
with love
Maria Luisa Caputo
Rome 23 December 2001, at home while I was preparing
"the Medieval Cake "
translation by Carroll Mortera
le Parole l'Arte le Immagini Le Parole Il Canto del Nomade Le Poesie Il Romanzo L'Arte Le Immagini Bio Info Link
© Copyright by Maria Luisa Caputo
