I look for the memory,
and the shiver full silences.
A wind from you still blows
on a mute heart.
My love, long ago you climbed
like the stretched wing by the wind,
in the wide and holy horizon
of dreams and dreams, of songs…
Today, when it seems that yesterday
burned futilely what has already extinguished,
I look for a path, oh, I still look,
by the same enthusiasm I am seized.
I look for the memory.
A wind from you blows,
on a mute heart,
and it’s cold and the silences are full.