The shadow of the rain
draws on the gray sky
the blossoming form
of our languid bodies.
Drinking the chalice
Divine delights
We forget the disastrous auspice
of the learned Aruspice.
O eternal love,
O cruel Eros,
O divine Cybele,
pronounce the anathema
or allow baptism
of my soul and his.
“Your quest is only a precipice
towards the spectator night
of an artificial love”
Lachesis answered me.
“Let it fly
this dream union
in the starry night;
because the Inflexible has cut
the waking dream
of your sweet vanity”.
“You Destiny
which is in your hands
the thread of the path,
Could you finally offer me
hope for a tomorrow?
Hear my heart
who wants to sing happiness
of a saving love.”
“Love, my pretty,
is not said in the night.
He proclaims himself, sings himself, shouts himself
in infinite space
of a growing heart.
See the clearing
which pierces the gray sky;
feel this sweet warmth
which caresses the heart;
Hear the enchanting bird
who whistles great happiness
of a better future.”
By the oracle of the Sybille,
I glimpse the betyl
who creates fertile worlds,
where the green orchard
and almond blossoms
breathe the sweet agape.