July moon: from your window
fleetingly discovered above the sea.
For a little while, but we made it ours
thinking it was a bottom of a glass.
Sea moon; wooden bowls
all lined up along the windowsill.
The sky does not dry out – meanwhile
the tide rises.
***
I’m leaving; but you are far away
that returns. Happy eternity
of your face investigated against the light –
from the old Magliana street to my room.
***
Everything has its time under heaven;
be young with me before some other
current part us – or awaken us.
Translated into English by Claudia Piccinno