If love is a game .... Gioconda Belli
rules of the game for men who want women to love women
The man I love
will be able to open the veil of the skin, discover
the depth of my eyes and
know what lurks in me,
swallow transparent tenderness.
L’uomo che mi ami
non vorrà possedermi come una mercanzia,
né esibirmi come un trofeo di caccia,
saprà stare al mio fianco con lo stesso amore
con il quale io starò al suo.
L’amore dell’uomo che mi ami
sarà forte come gli alberi di ceibo,
protettivo e sicuro come quelli,
limpido come una mattina di dicembre.
L’uomo che mi ami
non dubiterà del mio sorriso
né temerà l’abbondanza dei miei capelli,
respect sadness, silence
touch and caress my stomach as guitar music would flow because
and joy from the depths of my body.
The man I love
can find me in the hammock to rest
the heavy burden of his concerns,
the friend with whom to share their most intimate secrets, the
lake where swimming
without fear of compromise which anchor
prevents him from flying when the bird happens to be.
The man who will love me
poetry with his life,
building every day with a look to the future instead.
But over all,
The man who will love me
love the people, not as an abstract word
extracted from the sleeve,
but as something real, concrete,
actions with which to pay tribute
and give their lives if necessary.
The man I love
recognize my face in the trenches
knee on the ground while I love
shoot together
against the enemy.
The love of my man
not know the fear of giving oneself,
or fear you discover the magic of falling
in a square full of people.
may cry - I love you - or put banners from
houses
proclaiming his right to feel
the most beautiful and human feelings.
The love of my man
not flee from the kitchen,
or from the clothes of her son,
will be like a fresh wind
taking away the clouds of dreams and the past,
weaknesses which, for centuries, we have kept separate
stature as separate beings.
The love of my man
not want to define or label,
give me air, space,
food to grow and be better, as a Revolution
that face every day
the beginning of a new victory.
tr. com. Gennaro Carotenuto