Cantare e d'amore [English translation]

Like a fiction

Made not of blood but of red

I tasted water and salt but not tears

A conflagration like that of a battle

A close-by appearance of fire and straw

And our hearts are mad horses inside

Being in love is like running away

It is a perpetual “What have I done?”, What have I said?”

But not the reality

And it doesn't matter whatever you call it

It is my real illusion

Which proudly flows

Through the fingers of life

Leaving voices and beautiful pictures of us behind

(it is) A wonderful confusion

Appearing in conversations and gestures

And every burden filled with passion

It is a sigh but not the truth

That there is always another story without her

Without her who is lavished with my kisses of love

It is improvisation

Not wind or sun

But a cruel rain that had better not exist

Being in love is like climbing

Onto a screen of illusions

And believing in that ivy reality

It is a lie, my darling,

A long nose and a good-bye-like taste

But not the reality

And it doesn't matter whatever you call it

It is a life which you don't know (yet)

And you will surely revive

When I sing my love to you

(Love is) when all of the pledges

Made to you become betrayals

And life, to your astonishment, derails

Love goes ahead of understanding

And makes our reason stupid

It is not true that the more you speak about it, the fewer kisses you get

It is my real illusion…

And who is in love sings

Among the voices of life

About the water encountering its own profligacy

Or it is better not to sing, to stay numb, if there isn't any voice of love

But somebody has to do it and I am who will sing to you and find an escape in your heart

Not the reality

And it doesn't matter whatever you call it

Because to love, to love means to sing