Click here, for original version: https://loscrittorevolante.com/2021/06/12/poesiaspensierato/
without the same worries,
maybe, in the end I just got tired.
I almost have nothing else to tell.
So I feel my head empty,
and I write things on an empty head.
Strange, isn’t it?
Yet it is so.
the poison is outside of me,
there are no other people’s ideas in here.
My foolish will is in charge!
the pleasure of creating,
This is my salvation.
of who told me,
all those bad things,
it’s out of me.
English version of this one: https://loscrittorevolante.com/2021/06/12/poesiaascoltati/
Listen to yourself,
because you are what you need most,
listen to yourself,
because no one else can make your dream come true.
Listen to yourself
because only you can do it,
listen to yourself, because you alone know where to go.
Even if it’s all so crazy,
even if it’s all so out of it all,
out of context.
And I can’t,
but I get up early.