Restless Ness


The flower of my anger grows wild
and everyone sees its thorn
piercing the sky
so that blood drips from my sun
growing the flower of my bitterness
from this grass
that washes my feet
my bread
o Lord
the vain flower
that is choked in the wheel of the night
the flower of my wheat Lord
the flower of my soul
God despise me
I am sick from this flower
that blooms red in my brain
over my sorrow.


My vision torments me Lord
and torment makes my heart
into a blackbird
that does not sing
and my writing on the sky
someone else's grass
o Lord the star torments me
that floats through my sleep
with death and morming's pure soul
Lord my vision sees what depresses You
and makes my children's tears into blood
o Lord my visions sees the house of walls
and the world's pain perfectly
and doesn't know how to help itself
like the tree in winter
that silently fells me
my world my happiness my weeping.


o my God I don't know anymore
where my path leads
I don't know what is good and bad
in the fields
in limbs Lord my God
I am tired and poor
my word burns in grief
for You.


Restlessness is in grass
the cottages are seized by turmoil
the bell strikes me Lord
my God
the doves are wild
the moon is on edge
its sickle pierces my flesh
Lord unrest is in the sty
and the edge of these brookes
that do not flee from the snow
my God tree and fish too
are seized by restlessness.

In Hora Mortis (1952) - Thomas Bernhard


La luna, densa e gra, densa e grave,
come sta, la Luna?


Leonardo Da Vinci - Philosophical Diaries

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