There are Octobers in my dreams,Penning the tales on magic leaves,Singing the tune with angels’ psalms,Rejoicing peace through Autumn’s fall.When mornings paint the heaven’s arms,There
He rings up morningsThriving the sunshine in roomAnd smiles he brings meWith his kind-hearted voice’s comfort,Warming the distance between our yearning’s corridors.“Morning, bella ragazzaÇa va?
It scents ripe chestnutsAnd rhymes in craving’s embrace.Dreams are cheerful through sighs,Mysteriously painting their place in the fall.From the north is coming downA sprightly breeze
I sat at the edge of the darkWhere fears were heading eyes upAnd wildness was swilling its cupYet gathering despair to markEmpires of sadness and
Behind the smiling flowers, behind the lights of starsI saw on other worldliness the bridge up to my peace.I’m still behind the shadows and write
Could I deny these rushing tears?Washing slowly the noisy dust of your wordsAt the door of anxiety’s mindWhere the monsters of your treasonHave assembled their