What?

         It isn’t a summer’s tale

         beautiful like a young tree

         All these words are like ice

         an illumination of a frozen landscape

         I refuse to understand and accept them

         We can’t live on this planet

         if we are so bad.

         No poet can rescue the man

         or the Earth?

         Is the love only a reflection

         of our dreams and desires?

         Dear morning

         Open your wings and take my hope

         into the blue sky

         long, long away from the thunder and the storm.

         Keep safely your and my time

         inside the midday’s sun

         Ever since that moment

         my hope has been born

         now and hundred years later

         every human being’s nocturne.