Between the folds of a silk cushion ancient
I left drops of wonder
while in his eyes, ran a dream
era.
A sunset and sunrise to remember
many stairs and the sun on the terrace
hours of light bliss
when time passed slowly
and roofs of the houses, burned
of healthy rays.
I'd like, locked in a box
from staple colorato,custodita
sotto i pizzi di una credenza buia
facevano da cornice ad una semplice allegria
una leggiadra armonia,che si spandeva
come i panni stesi ad asciugare.
Se aleggiava un cruccio o malanno,si scacciava via
e si scioglieva come neve al sole.
Beata solitudine,nel chiaro dei mattini
was much company.
I wonder ', if in the folds of my pillow
and' left a few drops
of wonderful nostalgia.
this text belongs to:
; ; ElisabettaClaudia Avitabile
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