“Let my body rest in the mountains This is the blossom of those that died here
Bella ciao, bella ciao, bella ciao ciao ciao Bella ciao, bella ciao, bella ciao ciao ciao
Let my body rest in the mountains This is the blossom of those that died here
in the shadow of my flower for land and liberty”
Bella ciao, bella ciao, bella ciao ciao ciao Song of the Partigiani
suddenly
the painting reproduction of the deserted Italian piazza
appears
is the embalmed white dove still
trying to find the nourishing seeds
that Dante’s shadow used to scatter
over worn-out marble steps
before entering the majestic Saint Michael’s Church
my aging fingers touch with tenderness the Romanesque patina
up above
the archangel protecting the city
the spear slaughtering the satanic dragon
under his feet
the mind is on random search mode /
another time/ frames / fragments / another zone
nostalgia sleeps by the neighborhood bombed-out fountain
fresh drinking water from the aqueduct
flows from distant mountains
freedom-fighter partigiani hide somewhere there
they have painted the gas tanks with abstract patterns
camouflaging the surface
close by
the locomotive never departed from the station
dark dense smoke fills the atmosphere
the air strike is blowing up the rails
was there ever a mutilated monument
commemorating the hero who lost the battle & the horse?
plaster-casts of endangered antiquity remain silently frozen
inside the art school galleria
this evening an elongated young girl’s shadow is running
playing with a hoop over the bare evacuated space
have all the people gone inside the shelter?
mystery & melancholia of a street
once a restless boy was riding a rocking horse
at the edge of the approaching dangerous unknown
censored war news interrupted the Florentine songs
playing everyday before noon on the radio
I hear fierce battles over imaginary deserts
Tobruk / El Alamein / Benghazi
age testing memories
propaganda & lies
flying through a wind tunnel
I walk on streets with white facades
huge black painted handwriting
CREDERE - OBBEDIRE - COMBATTERE
(believe - obey - fight)
signed with the ever-present bigm– Mussolini
they’re marching singing war songs
trucks pass by each home
collecting iron bedposts for guns
copper pans for shells
wool for soldiers’ uniforms
women line up to melt gold wedding bands
paying for the war effort
coming back wearing stainless steel rings
has a time capsule faded away with
that obscure menacing sky?
the time we all embraced each other
in the street shouting:
the war Is over
it’s over / it’s over
not knowing we were embracing
a deceitful illusion
just before destructive reality arrived
we were soon to be trapped inside
the powerful German Gothic Line war-machine
cutting across Tuscany stretching sea to sea
ghosts of guerrilla partigiani
throughout villages & mountains mysteriously sabotaging
risking their lives & ours
new laundered clouds float with sunlight
empty rooms resonating silence live here now
somewhere is hidden the enigma of a day
on a wall the precious black & white lithograph
Garibaldi with courageous Anita dying by his side
she is shooting the last bullet for the old country’s liberation
a Brazilian chorino turns 78 rpm on the antique victrola
among grammar school memory pages of my 1st language
I find the deserted piazza by De Chiricho
I hear the piercing repetitive air-raid sirens
amplifying day to day
the alarm echoing outside the piazza
bouncing outside the defensive walls
embracing the historic city of Lucca
bouncing to the working class neighborhood to my street
roaring motors fly between anti-aircraft shells during the day
search lights illuminate the night sky
flares & guns redefine the constellations
fear of the uncertain moment
fear of the uncertain future
every Sunday diffused in the air
you hear a clarinet playing the aria “e lucevan le stelle” from Tosca
Verdi/top hat & white scarf/quietly listening from inside the oval frame
facing the factory the B-23 bomber planes pass by almost every day
on that Epiphany Day they unload the explosive cargo
leaving only the tallest chimney as an archeological relic
witnessing the human collateral damage
my body & bike lying on the street – alive
the shocking sight
the neighborhood of youth crushed in 1 eternal moment
has disappeared
the monumental hand-forged iron cross still standing
over street ruins
which friends died / who was wounded / who survived /
who is still breathing under the rubble?
the damaged home is abandoned after the air-strike
fear of the uncertain moment
fear of the uncertain future
mysterious words on the airwaves
coded messages from the partigiani?
listening to forbidden shortwave news from London
is risking arrest & interrogation
heavy fighting continues in Cassino
whispering voices are saying:
a young priest who believed in freedom
was executed under the city walls
given a shovel / forced to dig his own grave
the SS proclamation:
whoever knows where the partigiani are
& does not report the information
will be shot
whoever gives shelter or food to partigiani
will be shot
any house hiding a partigiano
will be blown up
they say that the day after the night of the shooting stars
few miles from Lucca
there was the BIG MASSACRE
well over 550 mostly women & children
from random population
were burned or executed
in the village church piazza
a Nazi retaliation against the partigiani
days of oppression follow
days under fascist martial law terror
days of silent resistance
days of surveillance & paranoia
who’s to be trusted?
days when the Nazis raid the homes
& people disappear never returning
days when life is between battling crossfire
days waiting for the Americans then the liberators
coming from the remote land where my father is & I was born
DAYS ALL COMING BACK
the new surveillance / censored news /
updated techno-war brutally flashing over TV cold screen /
savage surgical strikes /
cluster-bombs killing the trapped expendable population /
civilian corpses rotting under the rubbles /
Triumph of the Mighty Will ruling through domination & fear /
fear of the uncertain future
echoing consumed days over this old man’s eyes /
a survivor of World War II’s endangered population /
reliving the shock & awe coming of age /
still
there is no end in sight over the horizon
August 31, 2006
6:50 PM