Il nostro caro angelo [English translation]

OUR DEAR ANGEL

The den of the lion

is still reality

to escape from there is impossible for us

it's a slogan, a lie

Our dear angel

feeds on roots and then

it sleeps in the bushes under the trees

but it will never be a slave

The mirrors for larks

useless now shine on the ground

like prostitutes who, in the night, sell

a basket of a gay love that love is never

Fear and alienation

and not what you say

wrinkles have too many centuries now

we can no longer make-up them

our dear angel

is young, you know it

the nets preclude its open flight

but it never gives up

cathedrals darken

its white wings, white they seem no more

But our aspirations filter the dark

bright tracers point the blue out to it