I’ll tell you about a day
when snow petals
whitened the lawn
as cotton candy.
When at the first smile of dawn
we got dressed in wind
getting up in flight among seagulls
springing free between sky and seas.
I’ll tell you about ancient memories
flipping through crumpled notebooks
lulled by the notes of the old Banjo
played by your father.
I’ll tell you about this day
sitting like time on smooth stones
at the edge of the river that, slow and sinuous,
runs along the shores.
Innocent playmate.
I’ll caress your hands as lightly
as you touch the now out of tune strings
of your father’s old Banjo
that still gives life to our days,
erasing our solitudes.
Translated from Italian into English by IRMA KURTI
