Cuius est haec puella?

Stay positive my love. It is difficult, I know, but stay positive, my love. What are you thinking of?
I am not sure that I even think of anything, I responded. I was lying. I was thinking of that sentence Cuius est haec puella?
It has appeared to me from nowhere. But I knew where it was coming from.
Cuius ego sum? I asked myself. I found the answer. It was written. I had to glean and gather among the sheaves behind those who harvested life before me. Qui pro nobis ius redemptionis habent. They had come into life before me and had remained till they left this life knowing that I had come to follow their legacy. Now they were resting in their shelters,
And she was there, asking me what I was thinking of. She was my cliff, she was the lighthouse in the sea night.
She was hinting to me with that phrase "Don’t go and glean in another field and don’t go away from here. Stay here with me and work with me, We will survive together this world befallen in the hands of Satan". Like she was reading my thoughts, she added: many years ago I have found such favour in your eyes that you noticed me—a foreigner. You have put me at ease by speaking kindly to me—though I did not have the standing of those you were used to.
I said to her, Blessed be the man who took notice of you! It was probably written in the Law. I will stay with you until the day I will be finished harvesting what they left, those who came before me.
It will be good for you, my love, she replied, if you do so. It is what you are called for.

Melius est,ut cum puella tua exeas ad metendum, ne in alieno agro quispiam tibi molestus sit, ait derepente vox de caelo.

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Poetry dwells near the divine light's breath

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Può qualcuno nascondere la verità per tutta la sua vita e ingannare sé e tutti gli altri? Vi sono demoni nell'uomo, che vengono di lontano - per linee di sangue e generazioni che, se li ascolti, si fanno tuo dharma Se cerco di spiegare quello che eri Devo l' oltre e il prima guardare Dove cause ignote e foschi criteri Erano il karma del tuo andare. Di lí andavi larvato di nulla E mai il volto sincero mostravi. Di silenzio vivevi in una bolla Eppure libero a me sembravi. In pubblico e privato ti scindevi E disprezzavi me a te non pari Ma santo mi apparivi e tu sapevi. Del tuo dharma che adesso appari Eri schiavo - di quel lontano demone Tara remota e senza memoria Che nel sangue ti seguiva epigone E segnava immemore tua la storia.

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