Pooh
A bit of our best time
Time, a woman, the city
(Facchinetti-Negrini)
Dust
the wind in the valley slips
/>half-open windows screech
on the walls the sun
lies silently.
Vastness
of streets unknown to my steps
that sound indiscreet as someone who
violates a world never found
before.
She slowly approaches me
her face remains in the shadow for a while
she is a woman and she seems to be
albeit present and alive
an image suspended in the time
born in the mind
before in my eyes.
It's a portrait of fantasy
I ask where I am and who she is
She replies: Come and then
You will be able to see
What the wind and the sun know always
what to explain to you
maybe I wouldn't even know.
Slowly
I follow her, I have my eyes on her
I'm trying
to feel my steps are true
how light at first and then gradually
more and more present I discover around
from noises and voices the city
first dull
re-emerging and alive around me
even if there is no one besides us
even if there is no one besides us.
Voices of men in joy
speak loudly of I don't know who
boast in wine each with lively accents
how the world would challenge
he who had not been born conquered
but in the city you struggle
and wait for who knows what.
He who has courage in the world goes
voice of a woman of tired age
like a sad prayer to those who are preparing for the journey
when you return I will feel it
son I will be in the wind
may the world spare you
for the one you have in mind.
And lonely a girl's song in an empty room
behind a closed window in tears is transformed
between bare walls that silence consumed
and the mind uncertain of what exists and what no.
Then the stranger suddenly reveals her face to me
I rediscover her sweet features, her eyes of pure water
her dress transparent against the sun
/> recomposed image of voices already heard.
Not violated by iniquitous time
alone and alive where she now lives
cold the echo of remote shadows
from which only I could take her away
I take her hands and her breathing is short and intense.
The wind is silent on the white stones
Even the sun seems attentive to us
The veil that the ancient wait
strong and fragile embroidered on them falls.
A stone falls from a wall, rolls and stops.
The air closes in silence and then
the dust rises around us
I close my eyes there I reopen and...

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