Alarm!
Alarm!
An umbrella can't stop the rain,
two umbrellas can't stop the rain,
three umbrellas break, bombs explode,
metal rain is not angelic,
bombs are not divine,
this sugar candy won't change a thing.
Every bitter bite is a child's breath.
Every death is the end of the future of all the children of the world.
I look at the sky and the dark clouds have arrived and the winter is freezing.
The animals inside get warm
but there are many victims out there in the cold
and I can't sleep thinking about them.
Alarm!
Alarm!
Children don't deserve this pain.
Who are you who have no feelings?
Who are you who live without thinking?
Will this war be the last?
This pain will be there last.
My bed has no peace,
it moves under the bombs,
I hear them coming and I think of those missing children,
to mothers who try to put them to sleep.
How did Jesus sleep when it was cold?
How can he remain silent in the face of this disaster?
My food turns bitter because I cry,
this war does not end, I cry, I pray, but human beings are deaf,
they have become inhuman,
total alienation of armies and young boys.
I pray for Ukrainian and Russian children.
I make no difference,
I understand everyone's pain but where is God?
What are you doing? Please call God!
Void similar to the sea,
swimming, digging into the water, spinning in whirlpools of effervescent bubbles.
Minds of thinkers, closed in towers.
Good directions,
red heart beast,
ritalized with resistant scissors.
The flood made even Moses tremble but for the animals it was only rain.
A part of me has its forms,
the other part only you see.
Dangerous island, you arrive, castaway, and dig a pit.
Stay inside my thousand drowned souls.
( ITALIAN RHYMING VERSION)
Cuore simile al mare, nuotare, scavare dentro l’acqua, ruotare in vortici di bollicine effervescenti. Menti di pensatori, chiuse in torrioni. Buone direzioni, bestia del cuore rossa, ritaliata con forbici resistenti. Il diluvio fece tremare persino Mosè ma per gli animali era solo pioggia. Una parte di me ha le sue forme, l’altra parte la vedi solo tu. Isola pericolosa, tu arrivi, naufrago, e ti scavi una fossa. Rimani dentro le mie mille anime affogate.
Waking up before dawn allows you to see each star still in the sky, others reflected in the puddles.
It's cold, the darkness persists and embraces us with its mantle of wind and rain.
I sowed my intentions materialized in apple seeds. I sowed them near the olive tree where I had installed Matria. And immediately afterwards the rain came.
I then picked up the red diary and found a piece of the family tree, notes taken after having bisto the film "Mother", where are your children?
Everything makes sense, even spending the day cleaning and packing, seeing The Paper House and feeling a thousand anxieties.
I carry with me the fear of not making it and falling into the abyss. The fear that I would like to dissolve, that I would like to have no more.
And it all seems to me like a messily ordered chaos in which you simply have to find the thread again.
Yesterday I felt a slight thrill and joy in seeing various episodes of "The Silent Sea". I looked like a teenager in the middle of all the betting chaos. Compelling, beautiful. But I keep seeing the way society has shrunk. Dehumanized. Will there remain, even in this case, only an animal-daughter to continue life?
The teru teru bozu is a self-made white doll made of paper or fabric, which is hung with a thread outside the window to ward off rain and recall good weather.
The word "teru" in Japanese means "to shine" and "bozu" is the name by which the Buddhist monks are called to which it aesthetically recalls the figure of the doll. The day before the children go on school trips or picnics with the family, they build and hang the Teru Teru Bozu which they entrust with the task of not letting the rain come.
It is a tradition of Japanese folklore and although it is practiced by children today, in past times there was no farmer who no longer hung Teru Teru Bozu out of windows, on trees or in fields, believing that he influenced the weather by safeguarding crops.
It was believed that the doll was able to frighten Amefushi, the spirit of the rain ... in the past an enemy of the peasants, today an enemy of children who prevents them from going outside to play. Legend has it that this spirit is not bad and approaches where there are children to play with them, but attracting rain is not welcome and is hunted with the Teru Teru Bozu.
"Teru Teru Bōzu, Teru Bōzu,
bring me the sun tomorrow
If the sky is as clear as I dream of it
I'll give you a golden bell.
Teru Teru Bōzu, Teru Bōzu,
bring me the sun tomorrow
If you will listen to my prayers
I'll give you some sweet sake
Teru Teru Bōzu, Teru Bōzu,
bring me the sun tomorrow
If it's cloudy, I'll take your head off "
This is the nursery rhyme that children say to the teru teru bozu.
So if you too want the sun to shine every day, put your teru bōzu outside the window to scare the Amefushi spirit, thus avoiding being prey to its jokes.
If the next day it will be sunny, you can thank the ghost by embellishing it with a small golden bell or taking it with us in any activity (such as a trip) planned for that day.
According to other customs, to thank him one would have to wet his head with sake and then throw him into a river.
“Ask me why I go to the mountains. Ask me why, when the rest is tight, the only way is the path. Ask me.
- Why?
- Because in the mountains you can't waste your breath on useless words. You have to keep it to get to the top, and the rest is silence or kind words.
Because the only weight is the backpack. There is no burden on the heart.
Because everyone, if they wish, can reach the top. Just one step after another.
Because you meet people who still find a moment to say goodbye.
Because there are no trappings: there is you and there is your body, which you must keep and take care of, if you want to have the strength. There is the sky with its moods. Don't mess with rain, wind, snow or night. You have to be very careful, and go back to that primitive stage where nature and its movements were part of your life, an integral part of your daily life. You cannot snub nature in the mountains: it pulls you by the sleeve, asks you to look at it, to study it, to be present to it.
In the mountains you can and must be present to yourself, without distractions.
Perhaps this is why, over so many peaks, mobile phones and the internet work in fits and starts… it is nature that tells you:
“Forget the superfluous. Stay with friends. Stay with the animals. Stay with yourself. You don't need anything else".
There are nights like the one just passed when the mountain calls me and does it with a more intense voice than the others. There is a bond between me and the rock, which is not made of strength and resistance, but its texture has always been engraved in my blood with small rivulets of icy air that smear my flesh with inexplicable tremors of love .
Yesterday’s awakening was a bad awakening for Mattia’s young farm … Millions of dead bees and broken houses. An entire apiary destroyed by someone who took it out on defenseless animals, killing them, crushing them or freezing them from the pouring rain. It took months, perhaps years of care and work to prepare the bees in strength and health for the spring harvest, which was nullified overnight. This serious damage in the first days of flowering of the acacia will not be easily overcome, especially in this complex phase. Despite so much pain and discomfort, we need to find the strength not to give up and try to start again. Thanks to those who are expressing their solidarity with messages of support and those who want to concretely demonstrate it with a donation:
THE PRODIGY OF IDEAS 