I bring a rose to my nose,
to taste the scent up to the end:
the gesture of a god, or of a lady,
but if the rose was given me by you,
there's only a thing to do, forget the problem.
for you I was a god, and, in a flash,
i did realize the distance that exists
between your grecian eyes, so far each other,
too far to keep in mind what they created
in the unfathomable mists of time,
or just to be understood by mortal minds.
a drop of blood is blooming on my finger:
whoever could on the earth feel the pain?