In the vast afternoon
where Lake Garda meets
with the morainic hills
on the notes of a tender song
I let a shy tear
flow on my face
to emphasize
where the dream ends
where the fragile thought brings me
Abbey of Maguzzano
farmlands
with their autumnal colors
fill
eyes that have much to say
dreaming corners
half-close
to the illusory vortex
of the magnificent landscape
messy palette
before the magic
decay
where everything is chaos
in the spiritual creation
of the fleeting poetry
today always
eternal youth
