Friday, March 10, 2006

2 elegies

The following are two elegies I wrote in two different occasions and dedicated to two different people. The first elegy is dedicated to a person I only met twice (a lonely but lovely person), but the mother of a dearest friend of mine. Some of the lines found in the first elegy I used later to compose another elegy, this time in Maltese and dedicated to my dear mother. The second elegy is dedicated to the founder of the Maltese Poets Association (1975), a man of culture and faith, a priest, but above all a poet recognised as such in many countries but not in Malta. He wrote verse in three languages: Maltese, English and Itaian, and died in his early eighties.

Dedicated to the mother of a dear friend

Ages ago long moments of joy
followed the pain of birth
without me knowing such happiness
just the first hasty breath
a long cry to greet the world out here
and you, Mother, releived from pain
happy as a lark.

Now in this dark moment
sadness rules all
forgotton are those happy moments
clouded by seasons of sickness and solitude.
You lie there
no more on a soft bed cuddling me in shining arms
but hard as death enclosed in a wooden box...
And me slave of silent sobs
no place for loud dagger cries.

Now I look around and see white shirts black ties
you no more,
only memories and shadows.
Adieu princess cheerfulness and vivacity
and welcome cruel void!
Adieu dear mother womb
and welcome cold mother earth!

Dedicated to Rev. Mons. Amante Buontempo

Your much dreamt rest has come true alas
alas your one way ticket punched
a ticket bought long years ago.

Much pain you carried heavy as a load
and enemies you had you knew them not.
Long nights awake you had to endure
paper and pen your only friends
your solitude’s only witnesses
verse and melody mirrors of secret regrets.

I’ve been there, one of many,
to give you a last salute.
I’ve watched you smiling, at rest
strong in your beliefs
though imprisoned in a wooden box, motionless.
I’ve seen you pleased alas
enveloped by a praying crowd saying goodbye.

Now the past, ungrateful friends, cold indifference
forgotten are
now that from this world you part
your verse remains
a silent voice in the air around
and me to you through poetry forever bound.

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