Everyday I must pass by her shop,
while she stands there to get some air
and steal some scrubby sun that in this fall
is barely able to find its way to us.
a flesh flower given to everybody's sight,
as fine as the early morning dreams,
those soft dreams which make sweet your day,
and even make you feel pleasant the voice
full of hate, of your alarm-clock.
to such a wonderful creature
you'd gladly graze her cheek with your wing,
you, evil spirit turned into an angel
by the love she infuses: but you can only
offer her a short lasting shy smile,
as scrubby as this sun that doesn't dare
to apply in a full way all its power
on that skin made up of magnolias.
whatever could I do together with you
without the strong and transparent bonds
woven by evil spirits in cassocks
and by decrepit guys who lose their slobber
on the pads of their own office stamps?
ok then, you peerless creature
who walk barelfoot and silent through my meadow:
they can even keep us strongly tied
to leashes made by smelly breaths and lies;
but one day, you can be really sure,
i shall keep you forever in my arms
among the folds of superhuman silk
in the cloack of the god who created you:
and we shall love one another , without that
an alarm-clock bites uf with its poisonous voice.