Ugo Cordasco

WATER

I dive
and into silence gather
strength and thoughts
without breath.

I accept
and I drag the bottom
where swimming happy
with no regrets.

Floats
light and pretty
when I sleep comfortable
in your white arms.

And like a dream
completely comfortable
lunge in the dark
your soft bed.

EARTH

Mother of all mothers
will dig with his back bent
and your feet sink and calloused hands.

Mother of all mothers
with large strokes you
sow in the hot sun or rain.

Mother of all mothers
gather your fruit
when hot and fertile
leaves you undress.

Mother also happy my mother
rest after the hard work
while I take the forces
for next year.

AIR

Invisible and indispensable
you through noiselessly
while around me without hurting me.

Provincial and scented
I sniff you with eyes closed
while you caress me without hands.

Light,
I ride you flying without wings
heavy,
you caught me at fly without net.

In the air I heard my first cry
and still in the air I will express my last
wish.
Meanwhile,
I breathe you with full lungs.

Fire

In the Fire abandon
the bad thoughts
that jump on him and injured wild.

On the fire I hold
my hands trembling
that reheating every time I touch your face.

By fire I take
the passions lived
building in time emotions future.

With fire flows
the life that accompany
too fast and without return.

Cold and cynic unstoppable and invincible plunges his knife and in a moment life is already flown away. Time is not wasting time. But here is an opportunity to stop and maybe even touch it through the memory back in time.

Through space if you can.
The need and suffering take my breath away.
The courage and love giving new life to me. Through space if you can.
I .......... I was stuck in the middle.

There was a time where were the scars to determine the value of men. There was a time when horses and riders have entrusted their lives. There was a time when a table and have a sword meaning of democracy and justice. There was a time when ........ but now that time is gone.

The new man, or the "Structure of the Soul", belonging to a new world, "a secret world," wants to be a new beginning, eliminating all that has been looking for and the true meaning of life certainly different from the sense we have given ours. His white highlights its purity, like a newborn baby, but pays the consequences of our "evils" without being aware. Indeed, this sculpture is represented without arms (because we have too often a rifle to shoot at us ), legless (because we have blown up with landmines), without sex (because we made too much violence against women and children) without organs (to prevent disease and world hunger). And 'our essence. The only point in common with us is the navel hole, meaning the concrete possibility to exist not only as a hypothesis but as a real fact, in the flesh or rather sheet and poetry: "Renaissance This time better; Relive never create more pain. "Following regain all of these" sick "through our relationship with others and with the new world..