and there’s rigoletto laughing out the cry of the one who’s defeated by fate among the spectators dressed in blue by the light flooding them between the acts/ and there’s the woman eternally defeated by love/ a cup with poison from which they drink/ the men who used to believe

maybe the world means to win over that sentimental beast/ to open your eyes without amazement in front of the newborn’s cry/ the world where passions die in the name of freedom

i wonder
if this is exactly the sun in everybody’s eyes
how could I tear apart the veil woven around every cradle
with such soft hands it is impossible

somebody plays god every day
lights up the fire and waists time
searches among deities and tombs a piece of clay that he kneads
folding the dough
he tries to invent another empty space inside the earth’s crust

i took my knapsack on my shoulders it smelled like bread and onion i climbed upon the hill’s mane/ i felt beautiful and young/ i believed there will be a right hand holding my left hand/ when i came back it was snow and the house’s chimney was faintly whistling/ i bit a red apple from the yesteryear’s crop/ it was cold and wrinkled

in the play of a lonely child there is room for a whole world
of angels