Poetry 'n Prose

The English Guests

We have come for a rest,
so please give us kindly rest’s instruments –
salt, bread, dried fruit, olives,
a little meat if you have it,
and a flask of local wine.

We have no needs or preferences
especially out of the ordinary,
no special news, imports,
nothing to declare or purvey
only let your hearts be open,
your greetings be fresh,
your hospitality be warm
your laughter be real.

We do have our own obligations.
that is several duties and rituals of an incidental tourist
which require of us certain observances –
to learn your languages
to respect your customs and traditions
to enquire your meanings and dreams
concerning human affairs
but we do not mean to burden you
with more than conventional courtesies
in thanks for your unobtrusive hospitality,

We appreciate your trinklets, gifts, mementoes,
as we shake hands and part
we leave with a parting farewell:
ciao, spero di vederti presto

We shall rise early from our candle lit table and be gone
before sunset’s shadow effaces us into the night.
leaving no ripple on the surface of memory.

By 67paintings

A dialectical site of poetry, painting and the odd musical excursion into the unknown.

8 replies on “The English Guests”

Who wouldn’t welcome tourists like this? :)
You have not only captured the essence of visiting, touring… but also the fine inner film of visiting life itself. BEautifully said. I especially love the last lines.

Enjoy your stay… give your readers some pictures too.

Ah, if only there were more tourists to this earth like you! Agree with MJ above, especially about the last couple of lines. Now you and your hosts and your joint experiences are melded together beautifully, in the magical depths of joyful memory. Salut!

These are the first of many meandering thoughts from the amazing Lake Garda, a wondrous place (I wished I had come to as a child). The Italians are a generous and kind hearted folk. One offered us a lift to the nearby town of Prechiera del Garda where we are kipping down tonight. Tomorrow we will approach the foothills of the snowcapped Monte Baldo.

Hello Chloe, the last lines come from watching the reflection of the moon on the water. I feel a certain peace and stillness, through mindful awareness. It’s a daily reminder to me live in the present even when caught in memory. I’m not sure if that makes sense but maybe it does. Anyway thanks for sharing your insight, greatly appreciated,

Oh, I think memories are what gives texture to the present. To serve up the memories wrapped up in TODAY makes today seem like eternity… then the lines on the face cease to matter. :)

I tell myself that wrinkles are from smiling. Memory of smiles are the line worth bearing :)

Have a lovely evening Meena, and thank you for writing, it means a lot to me, you know.

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