You step out the doorway
As if the August night silently
In the foliage whispered gently
And you lead all the way.

And birds’ shadows slowly follow,
All the birds you could ever sight.
And you shine with all the colors
Brighter than the August night.

‘Cause you are the ornament,
A moon in the manor of the night
You scatter lights through your hands
Like grains, with the solemn rite.

And a veil of the birds’ songs
On your shoulder, like a coat,
A rug on a hallway that overflows
The backyard, where Venus alone

Shines. You are a cloud and a flight high
Glare of water and a stone’s glint.
I wish I could save your cloudy eyes
From the oblivion’s sin.


When dawn comes to my desk
Bowing to the morning star
I praise the only hands,
I praise the only heart.

I recall your bitter lips
And your voice sweet and gloom
And your ears like tiny isles
Seen by Odysseus by the moon.

That cloud is your face
That horizon, that acacia tree
And with my pen I put a trace
Of the letters on this paper leaf.

They will stand row by row
Like birds, golden and blue
And from the truthful plot
I make your portrait, all true.

Another day gone. Without restraint,
Restless time is blown by the wind.
I wish I could save your hands
From the oblivion’s sin.


How many roads crossed together?
How many trodden paths?
How many rains and snows, forever
Frozen in the street lamps?

How many letters, farewells,
Hard times in many cities, so extreme?
Again obstinacy to go ahead
And to reach the aim supreme?

How many endless strains,
Common grief and common strive?
How many breads sliced in pains?
Kisses? Books read? Stairways?

How many years on carving poem?
How many verses, cried out loudly?
How many moments with Beethoven?
With Corelli? With Scarlatti?

In your eyes shines a magic star
And your heart is all of the sunbeam.
Oh, I wish I could save this heart
From the oblivion’s sin.