MORN (Vinicio Capossela)
sinks in the sky of ash on the inside edge of the wave
night shoot I am afraid the shadows
night is an orchestra that is
of fireflies and broom
between echoes of cheers and fireworks
widower
you always only ever a part
abandoned her as I walk away a penalty in return
morna
and the love that I hear a moan
blows hot and comes from the dark since Mar
and how big the night and thought into your
hidden in darkness and in the Baltic
cry no more imagine
even here there is only so much wind and the words of then
the evening wind will
that washes and then dries
and lips and voice reminiscent
and flesh that shakes will be
the absence that I love as
M'innamoro
sadness that comes alone and is not now
but nourishes and covers the days passed in
malaora
when
wasted life is wasted once
everywhere
blows hot and the love that I feel a moan coming from the dark and
since Mar
and how big the night and thought into your
hidden in darkness and Tues
cry no more
even imagine what it is so only
wind and then regret
the evening wind will
that washes and then dries and even music and
will smile and heart that the silent
foam of my days will
that swells and then foam will
the soul of a party in the back
morna
